


Resolution Is Poison

by HCFirewolf244



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Original Work
Genre: Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance | BSAA, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Character Death, Guns, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Misjudged, Original Character Death(s), Post-Apocalypse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Tricell, Undead, Villains, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-03-02 00:35:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 31,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13306659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HCFirewolf244/pseuds/HCFirewolf244
Summary: A in an out parts of a Resident Evil original story containing some of our favorite characters and new onesStory focuses on previous Delta Force &, Post Tricell Agent, Colonel Calder GunHild.Still taking missions, a form of events happen where a target has been placed over his head. All the while, the undead are back and viciously searching for blood.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline : 2008-2009
> 
> Readers, if you’re about to start your reading journey through this work, note that the original characters are a main and canon characters do show up but not for long, unfortunately 
> 
> The setting does get changed quite a bit and I’m pretty sure I’ve failed with horror and action but I tried!

  

* * *

 

 _Lost all self-control_  
_Don't know where to go_  
_Take a piece of soul_  
_In my mind I take a hold_

 

* * *

 

**February 27, 2008 Romania**

A jagged weapon glinted in the night, followed by a man armed with many lethal weapons. Behind him followed a darkly dressed woman and another male. Their feet clicking softly against the age old dirt ground. Trying to become quiet, silent like the pure night. To their north a massive galvanized with silver factory stood, old and rusted. One that was hidden deep within a dark forbidden forest.

Leaves upon leaves scattered the smoke covered land as the bare ominous trees grazed the sky.

"Stay silent, our undead friends might be mulling around here. Besides our leader didn't send us out here for nothing. Though I am certain that there's much needed valuables in dear. Keep up and watch your back" The lead male announced in English with a heavy accent.

The two other agents agreed with a faint affirmative, holding their weapons tighter in anxiety. They stalked down the rusting factory, weary as they came to it's massive garage like door, which looked over them. In contrast it was slightly off its hinges but otherwise creaked as it moved.

The leader held a black nail polished finger to his mouth, lightly grasping the iron door with the other. Pulling on the side it did not budge. He pulls with more force and it relented, more force and it gradually creaked open. His arm strained as he lent up, an small enough space for a man to fit through.

"I presume those was made in the 30's or even 40's. A hideout scientist lab for old Germany. Be careful where you step and watch out for viles and drugs. Who knows What Germany has rusting in here". He muttered it to the others, carefully picking his way around the ajared door.

Sure, he wasn't that good with knowing artifacts dates. But long tales of stories that his father told when he was in the war gave him a general good idea of how things were made and designed.

"Flashlights on folks, keep an eagle's eye" he announced, turning the light of his P90 on and around swept it around the area. Scanning the room he singled with his hand, the two other beings following his suit. A low in the area made his gut drop some, the physical aurora could not be ignored, it was unimaginable. To state it simply, the factory felt paranormal, and horror that glued itself to the age old rusted walls.

"Lets search the first level of this place first, clearing it of any sign of B.W.O.'s and Then start on the  second level". Col. GunHild straightened his back as he finished his sentence, quickly gainers and whipping his head around. The back of his head being slightly whipped by his hair.

In contrast to his eyesight the factory was gigantic in size, and it possibly would baffle someone that it would only have just two levels. It was infesting to tell the truth.

Moreover the shadows licked the sides of the walls do to circumstances of the blazing sun vanishing far too fast in Calder's liking. Making the deceased building dreary and unforgiving.

Distant creaking, horrific groaning of old machinery and metal was all that was heard, accompanied by wind the hollowed though the trees like a scream. Dirt and rust had overtaken the first floor of the factory. Besides it seemed as if there was nothing amiss, but Calder was unsure of that such idea.

Clearly from his view the were rooms scattered here and there. The colonel estimated about five, in general the volume of the rooms would be abstract to normal rooms in buildings, but this was an expectation.

The minuscule group cleaned through the first four quickly. Aside from olden equipment, like radios and artillery stock rooms. The four rooms were accompanied by clothes and seemingly comfort furniture. Calder cocked his head in curiosity at this display, never had her higher people in the military would have such time and needs to have comfort and dressing rooms. He shrugged it off as they entered the fire room, swinging the metal door wide open.

All the known rooms in the abandon factory were dark and littered with shadows. It was hard to hide fear knowing this was new territory and had not be cleaned, that it was permanently contaminated at the moment. Who knew what was laying around this place, because of this they stepped slightly. Pointing their flashlights at every foot step, corner, and possible shadow.

For the fifth had literally horrified them, inside was shown rows of jail like rooms. All were very small, a captivity size of one person per cell. A low lone cot hung on the wall, not even a blanket was found. Pure metal bars were dug into the ground and ceiling.

Apparently this prison was transformed into a living hell hole for people who were sent here to be held. Calder glanced behind him as the corporal shuffled his feet and ducked his head inside one of the uncleared cells.

His eyebrow raised up at the stupidity of the corporal, knowing exactly what the results were going to be. In a few seconds his answer was confirmed as a affirmative as the man screamed and tried to back pedal. The echo of his voice vibrating the walls and ground. To his dismay he was to slow and neither had a bright enough mind to fire his weapon as he was dragged in. A ragged blood curdling scream cut through the air, it made both other agents wince as Calder rushed forward. Firing a bullet as he locked into a disgusting zombie. Hitting it dead strait in the head then doing the same to the other agent.

No reaction came two both agents as they did their duty, Calder stepping up to the dead agent and ripping the dog tag of the bloodied neck. As for the body it was decimated to the shoulders and up just in a short amount of time. The zombie has powerful jaws for such a human but it was clearly subset able to steel billets. Calder edgers backwards, clearing the cell as he left it.

"Well that's unfortunate. I can bravely say that this factory is clear, besides the top level" Calder announced, glancing at the other agent.

"Sir, there is more rooms!" The other agent began but stopped as Calder interrupted

"There is nothing here, I assure you. Now I would like you to do a second sweep of the first level again Captain as I search the second floor. Understand"?!

"Yes sir" The woman replied with an uncomfortable rising in her voice. Raising her hand to a salute as Calder tuned his back to her.

Leaving he jogged to the unsteady staircase which spiraled up. His tack clanged and weighed him somewhat down as his sword painfully pressed into his back. He hissed as he finally made it to the second level, readjusting the sword. The staircase remained dark and ominous in the room he now occupied was silent in despair, neglected of many years.

The ebony man grinned slightly as he swept his flashlight around. It was a small room, not covering the space of the factory's ceiling but withstand able to a room size. The design was certainty not new but still was most Interesting.

Calder's hazel eyes flickered in the dark, reflected by the flashlight. He jogged over to a walk, inspecting it as he raised his hand. Fingers wrapping around a lever and thrusting down, the lever screeched then gave. Falling downwards and stopping all together.

He partly started as a generator could be heard trying to start up. In contrast yellow emergency lights erupted, castling long shadows throughout the blackness in the factory. GunHild could partly see more clearly but still the eyesight was horrible. He flicked his P90's flashlight off as he walked into the center of the room.

Now finally able to see the room with an better eye could he finally inspect it. For it was partly gilded with rust not gold. It was not a surprise meant for sure. In instinct he held his right hand out which grazed an old counter made with steel. The cool surface was smooth feeling, it was neither welcoming or nice but he knew far better what it was really meant for.

Generating images of men dressed in black and brown leather, others with white lab coats stalked the area. Listening to dreaded screaming of bloody murder, of pain as people were strapped down and tested on the metal platform.

Calder suspected that the rust here could also be identified as blood but he was not at all interested in that. For the most part his nosed sniffed out the real reason, it wasn't just for Tricell's sake but his. He didn't care whether or not Tricell got what they wanted, it was all for his benefit. Manipulating the situations for his sake that no one would possibly know about.

Eyes locked on his target, no noise heard, he silently hurried forward. Ending up at the back of the room he smiled a devilish smile.

Smashed glass was splattered around like blood upon a forest floor after a killing. He crouched, sniffing out the best of the best. Bottles upon bottles of booze and drugs sat upon a back shelf.

Some where shattered, others having been tainted over the many years. Yet his eyes looked into only eight that were still standing. None were the viles that Tricell required them to retrieve on his mission. But he didn't really give a shit what Tricell wanted. Selfishly he grabbed three of the three of the whiskey bottles.

Inspecting the last five drugs he had no clue what they were, or what was mixed in them for that matter. The carelessness gave and he greedily snatched them up. Secretly hiding them inside his vest.

A sound of a piece of glass hitting the ground spooked him as he whipped around, knees slightly grazing the rough floor. His deadly P90 focusing on what was now behind him. What stood there was if no threat as the still other remaining agent stood ram rod straight, mask firmly in place.

"Agent, what's the code?" He asked suspiciously as the woman shifted slightly, unmoving, undaunted.

" **4103007THCF907** " Her monotone voice completed. Calder nodded and stepped forward.

"Perhaps any luck in finding analyzing eye catching on first level that we perhaps did not see? My attempts were unlucky" In response the agent concluded a negative.

"Now report"

"Sir, I have scouted for any links or tubes. There are certainly none, and as you were correct, negative undead besides the one that were found". Calder eyed her as he stepped forward, sliding past her to stand at the edge of the stairwell. Gaze trained on the age old testing table.

"Shall be it then? Stand straight, or you'll revive a beating for sure. You know how it is. Now, I do hope you have left no track or leads?"

"No Sir No!"

"Good, true-fully your telling the truth, let's get a going out of this hell hole Captain" The Colonel twisted around and stalked back down the stairwell, not glancing back the way he came.

Footsteps followed behind him as they soon reentered the surrounding forest of Brasov. Neglecting the dead man inside, there was no need to bring him back. Mostly all members knew that Tricell didn't care about their members. The didn't either give a shot about the living but still needed them alive to take orders. Tricell was only about Money and world domination. Their soldiers were a minor thing when the leaders thought of it.

It's only true to say that members that were ruthless could get through. It was that same thing for Calder, tho in truth he never needed to be taught the rules to be accustomed to it. It was a silent rule that everybody could feel, taste, smell, and see. Others couldn't comprehend this and thus so couldn't make it far within Tricell. The dirty ending to their unfortunate lives shall remain in the shadows, never to to be talked about.

By these silent laws was a well known one, where any agent shouldn't be talked to unless spoken too, and even that regarded higher ranks. Calder had learned this rule a ruthless way, smarting up after the incident. He of course was a thick headed person but even thick headers learn. It has cost him a immense burn that was carved into a panther on his back. It was brutal, maybe even a speck or more of Russian involvement of government training, included into these deathly rules of an wrathful organization.

The man's noted memory replaying as a story in his mind as he was finally interrupted. His P90 flashlight illuminating the coal outback jeep. Trotting up to it he immediately scanned the interior. Better be safe than sorry, nodding to the major he jerked the driver's door open.

Hoping in he laid his sword down in the back seat. Clicking the flashlight off of the P90 and clipping it into his armored vest he thrust the keys into the jeep.

The engine roared to life like a cliche as the other personnel joined him in the passengers seat. He took note and pressed his foot to the gas pedal, slamming the door shut and leaning back for a long ride to Berlin.

The jeep ran silent on the inside, shadows partly coming into the interior. The rocky terrain throwing them slightly around as minutes, even hours passed. The jeep followed back roads, and dangerous terrain.

Calder partly dreaded the fact that when he got back to the headquarters he sure as hell would have to go through a lecture, maybe a tour torturing session perhaps. Unless that was the day the clerk was there, a little annoying dick.

His eyes flickered a dark frame as his vision slid over to the silent major. Thoughts working in his head, a malicious and sly plan beginning to work into his head. The woman which sat next to him was a complete liar, one that he always disliked. Truth be told, he hated almost everybody. He was a complete misanthropy.

Switching his right hand to the steering wheel while his left hand fell silently down to his belt that was nearly squashed against the door. He slowly tightened his hand around the handle of his Beretta, his face a blank expression.

In a instant a loud popped emitted from the jeep, ricashading into the dark forest, echoing from the jeep. A echo of a long lost shot that soon fell into silence that would never be found again, erupted. Dark warm substance ran across fine leather interior.

"Ah fuck that" Calder gave a grimace at the fact the car was now ruined. But not the fact an agent was dead in his car. He didn't care, it gave him a reason to go up more ranks and a higher pay check.

But what would this death do to benefit him when he was already above this failures rank, absolutely nothing. It was just a fake to tell a different story. As for Calder he knew how these games worked for Tricell, he already had done it multiply times as he quickly pulled over.

Leaning over he checked the woman's pockets and holding places. She was vulnerable at that time, the dark was covering him and the thought of everything was all right. He knew her intention as he snagged a light green vile out of her bra, he frowned at that but otherwise snarled at her.

"Damn little bitch, you've should of known that was going to be served in your face for that" he spat as he unlocked the passengers door. Yanking the dog tag off of her neck he ruthlessly kicked the woman out, slamming the door shut. He pocketed the tube and silver chain as his eyes once again refocused on the road in front of him.

Trailing into the dark night ahead, lightened by the headlights he leaned back more fully. Placing his Beretta in his lap. Knowing anything could possibly put here, even cannibalistic humans, if it ever possibly came down to that. Calder grimaced at that thought, shifting as he finally pulled onto a road that looked clear and main. It had not been reconstructed over the deserted years since the outbreak, but that should be unsurprising. No one around theses days had time to deal with roads out in the middle of nowhere.

A long trip progressed ahead of him and he was gratefully thankful for the silence. He would of gladly taken the mission by himself but it was not so and he hated the assigner for that.

The pitch black began slowly to fade into a dull haze of dark blue, swirling silently into light then red. By this time he had gotten into a abandoned highway that seemed to have no vehicles, it was strangely so. Soon the sun appeared above the horizon line and he gradually rubbed his eyes, pressing down around the tattoos. Shifting he leaned towards the glove box, opening it and retrieving much need sunglasses. Setting them upon his face, his eyes adjusting once again.

Turning his head to catch the sign of the highway, he could not diminish the words were in which in Romanian. Only picking up the numbers and the country name: Germany. He huffed, another three hours or so to go. His back was already aching from the straight position for hours already. Bordem set in. He reached for his music discs and hit play.

 

* * *

 

Only two hours or so into Germany, does the ebony man feel unsteady. Head slightly beating to the music as he stilled, uneasiness digging into his gut. His hazel eyes scanning the old roads, trees, ans landscape. Sliding the black sunglasses off he leaned forward as a figure caught his attention.

Sliding his jeep passed a tree, it was splattered in blood. A man hung from the tree, almost split in half, his ribs leaking from his body. His neck bore at an odd angle. Calder just shook his head and drive on. 'Ridiculousness'

Dead country side passed soon becoming soon filled with smaller building then ancient old castles and quinquennial structures. Finally filling out into a city which seemed more alive and up to date with the world

Way too soon he has finally arrived in Berlin, many people considering the mass extinction in their race where walking casually around. People talking, on their phones, cars, and shopping. Just like a casual day in the 90's besides the smart phones. Calder gunned at his own stupid thought as his hand turned the steering wheel.

Calder lowered volume of the music as he turned down a more back road, among old buildings and parked. Grabbing his beretta he stepped out, slamming the car door as he briskly walked into an old store. The clerk lifted his head as the black haired man approached.

Calder slid his hand inside his jacket, pulling out the vile of liquid. Setting it on the counter he then grabbed the two dog tags, placing them alongside the vile. GunHild looked directly at the clerk.

"dies wurde von GunHild Team geliefert und die anderen starben an Untoten"

"Ja, sicher Herr. GunHild"

"Danke, guten tag" He raised his hand and shook it, jogging out into the Berlin's crisp autumn air. Carefully dusting off his clothing, he searched, no speck of blood nor dust to be found. Opening the jeep's door he hoped into the still running vehicle, slamming the door shut.

Digging into his vest pocket he extracted one of the unknown bottle of drugs. It was a small vile, one that would be used for medical medicine or perhaps Injecktation. The cap was a coal black as the liquid splashed inside, a ugly blue.

The language that was written upon the paper looked Romanian, but the writing all together on the tube was unknown him. He peeled at it, ripping it off as another laid just inside it.

He was not all surprised, he firmly suspected that there was another layer hidden. The Nazi's were never to careful when it came to hiding things. Perhaps, his father was a pure blood Nazi, but at his young age he had never asked about the war or his past.

He looked on at the German writing, his main language, while reading it with ease. It certainly was a drug. One specifically to improve your strength. Not one of dying, he grinned and twisted the cap off it. It screeched with rust as it jammed, more force was added and gradually the cap lifted off.

There were only a few liters and besides he had four more bottles. He might as save the viles and this one for tearing. Raising it to his mouth he took a swig, throwing his head back.

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know there are three bases of Tricell but you have to wonder, what about all the soldiers? Surly they have a fourth base just for their soldiers.
> 
> Also I've put in two characters we know of and the next chapter you'll see more of the characters we all know. 
> 
> This is also days before the downfall of Tricell (Wesker's death) which will result in Calder getting kicked. 
> 
> The undead will be included more in the next chapter

* * *

 

 _Confusion_  
_Solution_  
_Conclusion_  
_Resolution_  
_I can feel, I can see the resolution_  
_I do_

 

* * *

**March 1st, 2009, Germany**

"General VolffenStein, dear's a rising problem down at the Chalet place. The group of Tageras's men are slightly passing rumors of leader Wesker, and a rumor has spread that day are selling a sort of drug. It's of great importance from various sources" A tall man announced as he joined another, slightly older man. His voice echoing off a darkly lit space below ground.

The gruff man turned his head as he walked in pace with a German colonel, who in which just had jogged up to him. The information striking him as odd, perhaps. He grunted in response, taking his phone out of his pocket, dialing and putting it to his ear.

"Sir, yes. I was just informed by col. GunHild that the Chalet place over by one of our Tricell quarters in Berlin is spreading rumors of you, sir. They are also selling unknown drugs. .... yes..... understood.... that will be taken care of right away..... that'll do sir, signing off..."

The higher ranking man tuned on his heel to the awaiting ebony haired man.

"As you know we don't have much agents, most of them being very low ranking. They are off with Wesker. As for me I'm an not in fit condition nor the rank to go out on field jobs. Colonel GunHild by Wesker's orders you are to be sent to Chalet as of right now and take care of the problem by yourself, Understood?!"

"Yes sir. On that, I'll speak with you later Zven"

"You will, and call me when it's settled" came the reply. Calder straighten his back and saluted the general. WolffenStein took his hat and waved it to him. Calder grinned at the wild auburn hair that emerged. He turned and began walking to the weapons room.

A call of farewell trailed after him and he smiled.

As for general WolffenStein, he had known him since entering Tricell. They had become friends. Close enough that they looked out for each other and bid farewells on each missions of theirs. It was consequently rare to be paired up with the man. But at the occasional time it did, Calder often liked the company.

Far away from the desolate, and dark organization. More relaxed in a mission with a friend. There weren't many friends Calder had made in his life, probably four. One of them being Zven WolffenStein. As for the rest they had perished among the others, but they had not died in vain, thankfully. He rarely got along with others, and because of that they became his enemies. Was it fate?, he had no idea.

The other agents despised Calder, eyeing him as a misanthropy. Yet in reality, they didn't know but they were surly right.

 

* * *

 

The night was busy and people partly gave a quick glance and turned back to the road. Their eyes followed and glided along with the sleek maroon Lamborghini, Calder now controlled. Partly bragging with no words about the car, he didn't really mind as of now. His mind was turning like the currents of a raging river.

His face was contorted into a stone emotion, thinking of ways to attack, approach, and possibly flee. That was surly the last resort as many lights glinted overhead, horns honking as he moved off of the main roads. Sticking to the back roads. The ride with him alone was much more peaceful and trustworthy than with someone else. That even your best friend could possibly back stab you, and it was true. Calder did not take things like that lightly. He might say it was a bad trait to have but it surly helped keep you alive.

These people, Tageras's, were tough to deal with. They were like parasites. You kill a couple, they come back. You kill all, they find a way to survive. They were surly a nuisance to Tricell. More than many times Calder had worked with Tricell than their name had popped up more than once. Uncomfortably so and from this thought, Calder had an nausea feeling deep within his gut.

Things would be decoded upon confronting them, it was all down to what they were going to do, not when. It was if they were going to attack or pull a dirty game. They always have something up their sleeves.

Beneath this a ugly colored drug was clutched between his fingers.

Even enough Calder followed his own rules, it was his rule, his soldier, his resolution.

 

* * *

 

Switching the headlights off he guided the car in a space covered by shadow behind the building. Many upon many cars jammed the parking lot, and for this it was a disappointment. In a state with half the cover he needed, not to hurt any suvilliances or alert that an 'evil' organization members had slunk into the club and was on a rampage to kill. No, it didn't work that way.

His state of mind was very much so better than others thought. That treading lightly in these situations was the best possible. But of course the reminder of 'you do not know what's going to happen until it becomes the past' sparks his mind. He sighs, rubbing his face at this difficulty.

For safe measures he jams the P90 under his seat, collecting the two daggers and placing them neatly inside his vest sheath. He growled, knowing that because of the stupid crowd his sword would have to be left for nothing. Unsheathing the sword, he laid it out in the back of the car. Unlatching the holsters and taking his Beretta with him. A little unease about the fact of less weapons.

Pushing the heavy door open and shutting it softly he could instantly hear the music pouring and echoing from the club. Besides this he could practically smell the drunkenness and bad feeling from here he stood. Shaking it off he jogged to the back door, watching closely as one man was bent over throwing up and two others making out.

Calder scoffed, the bold, blunt enough personalities of theses people. Have they forgotten what has sharpen to put them in this situation here, or even be alive. Through partly the harrowing of blood and undead to be in this situation. Didn't they even realize that they were not safe were they sat, upon their mud throne to think that they are safe and above all better? They were foolish to think so, every single one of them was either a survivor or a soldier and they were eventually going to die by the hands of the undead.

"Kübler" the word dripped from his mouth as he tredded on.

Slipping past the two he entered the club and was blasted with once again the smell of cigarettes, alcohol, vomit, laughter, and smells of many more things he would rather not dwell on. In this situation he slipped to the bad, into the shadows as he watched the pulsing lights and dancers. Women almost bare naked with no mind what so ever of the world beyond them and what it was like before.

GunHild knew greatly so as he could see that besides a couple of others, he was one of the oldest to stand in this club of a place. The thing that did strike him as odd was that the building he withstood in was a great mansion with four floors, a basement included.

Both his hazel eyes searched the mass of people. Passed out, drunk to the high heavens, gamblers, dancers. His eye were mostly attracted to the people that stayed in the back, chatting suspiciously and obviously not drunk like the rest. He snorted halfway at this and stepped around the many people, searching, searching. Hand wrapping around the handle of his dagger.

From the smell of cigarettes it made his brain fuzzy, his other hand twitching. Relenting at last he plucked a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it, blowing smoke as he weaved through the sea of people.

He didn't, surely never wanted to search fucking five floors. But it was his job and he would do it rightfully so. Indicators, as for the main floor it consorted mostly of TVs, tables and bars. He sniffed as nothing was amiss but turned as a man appeared in front of him.

Calder partly startled as a tall man stood in front of him, tanned skin with partly long brown hair. He was almost drunk to being brain dead but Calder simply cocked his head to the side. The man partly swayed as the colonel eyes searched out a tag, noticeably sticking out of his pocket.

 _**Luciani, Paker** _  
_**BSAA Operative** _

For the rest was covered by the jacket but that's all that Calder needed. This should be much easier for him as he started small talk with the man. He hated the talk, hated talking to people in general. Diverging to the point that he was interrupted, but as the man laughed over nothing, Calder simply pressed the card deeper within the pocket of Luciani shirt. Hiding it from any prying view. Of spies or the men which he was tracking down, a dead give away for them to flee.

He gave little mind to what the man said and offered him to buy a drink in return for information. The tan man took the offer up within no time and soon Calder had a bottle of nice whiskey placed in front of Luciani, where thy both sat in the shadows.

The point of endlessly looking and being spotted as an agent was high. As for asking the manager or co-worker they would surly sound the alarm. His mind raced as the words of the BSAA agent's nonsense flew over his head. Calder grounding out his smoking cigarette as he eyed the whiskey, restraining himself better this time.

"So, Mr. Luciani, where you just looking for someone to talk to? Or to just fuck up your night? The muscular man looked at him, then burst out laughing, snorting as he picked up the whiskey. Calder glared at others when they looked over at Parker, because of this they shied off, intimidated by the glare.

The ebony man turned back around as he waited for an answer, the horrible dance music annoying him greatly so. The dark shadows covering both of their faces, unyielding in their attempt to sweep this moment, this talk to nothingness.

The brown haired man straightened, obviously drunk.

"Then why did you agree to buying me a drink?" Calder snorted, attempting, brazenly so to bring the fact up, a lie beginning to interrupt. Pointing lazily with his black nail at the pocket witch held the BSAA card.

"I see you work with BSAA organization, I do as well. I am in another unit than you but was sent here on a mission. Not because of you, it was surly surprisingly to find a fellow BSAA agent here. I would invite you to join me but you are drunk and that won’t help"

The younger man half eyed him, half brain dead as he swayed once more in his seat. He just shook his head and laughed, slurring. "Yeah? Never see ya before. But I guess your right. Don't mean to be rude but what ya doing here in the first place?" The guy almost fell onto the wooden table in a drunken doze. Calder rolled his eyes as he opened his mouth, the last of the smoke spiraling from his mouth.

"They sent me here to contain a person, very simple task". Calder titled his head after this, an idea rapidly forming in his brain. quickly tossing it out before the BSAA agent could respond. "I'll buy you another bottle of whisky for you, for some friendly co worker information. It would greatly help me since you’ve been here for, "?", who knows" He stated, mind unevenly calm.

The other man nodded in a drunken daze, spilling out info that just might be useful in the near future. The raven haired man kicked that in the back of his mind as the BSAA agent now babbled in about weird happenings among st the fourth floor. His ears perked forwards as he interrupt and called forth another bottle of whiskey.

Standing and sliding his chair in as the whiskey was served, he stuck his hand out. "Good day chat, may we meet again in better times" Calder announced as he shook the other's hand and swiftly left without a glance back.

He walked within the shadows as he stalked up the spiraling staircase that oh so reminded him of the olden factory. Reaching the landing of the top most floor, the fourth and final.

The club was stuffy, clammy of bodies and heat. It disgusted him so. Back to the thoughts, back to the olden days, back to where not to worry, back to the state of mind if hating what the human race has put themselves into.

His hearing disturbing noises he wished not to device, emitted from different rooms. He kept walking on, following the rugged, harsh, depraved swears and smell of something not right.

Slowing to a more quiet walk, he came to a darkly lit room, but illuminated with red. Harsh swears spewed from the area, four men, English and Spanish language. Shuffling and banging was heard as laughter erupted later. Calder had a gut feeling this would not turn out well, perhaps not even knowing what they had stored in their in there the first place.

This was surly what Parker was talking about even though he himself was to drunk enough to really notice. And as for the door, it was more than half closed, very suspicious. GunHild scrunched his nose, as for the smell, he tried to block what was coming from the room. Switching to the front he breathed and knocked loud on the door.

He tensed immediately when all sound stopped from within. His eyes nervously twitching as soft whispering came from inside.

Calder stood straight, eyeing the door, his hand carefully wrapped around the hilt of the dagger. As the door opened a little more than a quarter. A man appeared, a few inches smaller than himself but was muscular, not terribly so. The lights from the small hallway gave his identity away to Calder as piercings lined his lip, ears and eye brows. Dark brown, chocolate like hair, partly covering his face, trying to cover a massive thin scar that ran from one side of the face over to the left eye. The man glared at Calder, his eyes leaking suspiciousness. Calder swear he saw that the irises were different.

"What you want?" His clean Americana accent grazed Calder's ears as the thought of a way in. He responded in a manner of monotone, politeness.

"The co-owner of this club wanted me to tell you that your.... party has to be going. In a more polite way I guess" Calder stated. The shorter man looked at him as if he was crazy.

"No can do sir, tell the owner we're staying here..... For the benefit of him" He snapped and slammed the door shut all the way but Calder caught it before it locked. The reason of it was for the owners benefit of raising warning signs.

Calder bursted in, whipping out his Beretta in record time. The man he just recently had small talk with, not even that, was knocked back, falling heavily to the ground.

His hazel eyes whipped around the room, three other large men stood in the room. Surprise written large across their faces. Beers upon beers lined the room, trash being scattered. But the bothering thing that now dug into Calder's head was that flowers laid across the table. Many upon many of them, their color unidentifiable in the dark light. Though the raven haired man could see viles neatly hidden among the beers.

He growled and stepped more fully into the room, gun raised above his head. The men on the other side of the room snapped out of their daze suddenly. Yelling erupted in a mass of noise, one rushed at Calder without word, the blonde haired man quickly pulling out a dagger.

To Calder's mind they had no point to talk, or for that matter. The group was sending a clear signal, there's no room for arrest of a organization. So be it then.

Calder stepped to the side as the first man came flying at him. Pointing his gun he took a clean shot at his head. Dead, but his response to the shot certainly fast enough as the guy dropped at his feat, unmoving. He grunted as a dagger was plunged into his shoulder with no warning. Calder tried to twirl around as a arm started to wrap around his neck. From his side view he watched as the guy which had talked to him run out of the room, the fourth following him. They held with them the viles.

As for him, there was no time to dwell on that as he more fully twisted his gun back wards and shoved his hand back, squeezing the trigger mercifully. The loud band of the Beretta nearly made him deaf. Ringing in his ears loudly he felt the arm loosen as warm substance dripped on him. No pain no death as he pushed the guy off of him.

The sound of a body hitting the ground was unknown to the remaining man that was left to the room alone. Calder grunted as he moved his shoulder, lifting his left arm and grabbing the hilt of the dagger. With a near yell, he pulled, moving the metal piece painfully from his back. Breathing heavily as he inspected it. He could feel his blood running down his chest and back as he slammed the bloodied dagger to the ground. Of no more of it to be used.

His mind was set forth ward as he dug deep into his pocket, pulling out his sliver lighter. Flicking the top open and the searing flame started he tredded over the trash, pointing the flame over the flowers.

The flowers were engulfed in flame in mere seconds, reaching out with pain he grabbed the last ones. Stuffing the flowers and lighter into his vest he snatched one of the viles and grunted as his right arm moved. Hiding the Beretta as he fled the now searing room. Away from that minor horror, of that killing. The two men laid sprawled on the ground, blood tricking and mixing into the fire. He didn't look back as he escaped a scene.

His face panicked, hiding the blood under the smoke smell and dark light. Under the noise. It was easy as only a few people noticed, then the few became more and then more. Chaos erupted as Calder escaped, knowing he needed his arm tended to.

And as for that flower as he crashed into his car, out of breath as music and screaming raged behind him. It was needed to be done, no witnesses of a murder scene, of no new possible virus breaking in to kill more than what was already in there to be left for accidental death. To save is to sacrifice, even if he rather didn't care about the stupidity of the human race.

It was for the best as he whipped his car door open, listing to the sounds of incoming sirens. His shoulder and arm screamed with pain. He could barely see the wound. Let alone the night was any help or the fire that began to rise better, off to his left.

Setting his gun down he reached over, feeling the partly large gaping wound in his arm. More so or less, that was not he problem. The main problem was half done, the two men were still out there with vital information and tools.

His arm hurt, raging against the air as he pulled his fingers back. Hissing at the pain and how much blood there was. He had no medical supplies stored in his car anyway. He soon started the engine and with one hand, raced out of the back, leaving the fire to the mansion.

He was able to extract the flower from his pocket and out it up into the light as he turned on a more main road. Now many yards from the mansion. Speeding up, as recognition sparked his mind.

"Oh no" he breathed as the hindsight settled in. The myths, the history, the shape and color matched almost immediately in his head. He was positively sure that what he held was the flower that started it all. But Mother Nature was a bitch like that, she was the one to destroy and create all this. This flower was her make or break weapon.

But his default was that as his attention was spent on the flower and its disturbing history. Calder failed to hear the gunshots until it was to late. The front windshield shatter as Calder whipped his head to the side, ducking as he grimaced in pain. His shoulder ripping more, hand searching for his Beretta. And in that instant another bullet hit the tire dead center, his hand slipping off of the steering wheel, forcing it to the left. As for the Lamborghini, which was going sixty MPH skidded and flipped.

The gun was lost from his immense weak grip as he yelped in pain. His hair whipping widely around his face. He glimpsed two men ahead of the car, a black truck behind them as he was in mid air upside down. It was mind boggling as the man with the large scar stood there, behind the other which held the gun.

His eyes scattered in a haze, glazed as his shoulder blared rage hot white pain. In seconds his seat belt split and he was forced forward. From his side view, a blurry view he could see his sword being thrown from the gravity. He ducked as it flew over his head, the hilt knocking him in the face.

This all happened in a succession as the car spun in the air. Knocking the man inside around. Glass shattered and flew around him as pain that he couldn't even describe blared and pierced his left eye. The red Lamborghini crashed into the concrete to finalize it. A pure pain filled scream ripped itself from Calder's throat. A piece of metal shot unexpectedly through his left arm, sticking out through both sides.

His legs were almost nearly crushed as his body was forced to a sideways lay, pressure being put on his ribs. His shoulder ripped even more, blaring pain. He couldn't feel that arm, it was stone cold numb. As for his left eye, he couldn't see anything out of it, only warmth and the feral metallic smell of blood.

As the dust and noise of the crashing and jolting of the car soon settled. Calder began to focus in on his surrounding and now what had happened. He has been ambushed by the two other men he didn't get at, and that had paid him big time. It could even cost him his life right here and now.

Panicking for the reason of that he couldn't even move, he was surly a sitting duck. Even if he tried, his left arm wouldn't help him and as for his legs, he had no idea. He could feel them, but they were pinned to the point of no movement.

The raven haired man struggled to move once more and bone white pain clawed at him, messing greatly with his senses. He screamed once more out of this, in both pain, panic, and fight. He was indeed in a dire situation and the will to flee right now instead of fight was very strong. He tried desperately so to move, to do anything, but resulted in no avail. He could hear people talking, shouts as he gazed out onto the concrete.

Calder was actually surprised that he hadn't blacked out yet. Usually this much pain and blood loss would surly do it but he was so high on adrenaline.

Panicking once more which seemed the only option he tried searching for his gun. But he came up short, in the darkness and street lights his right arm wasn't long enough. His sword was thrown in the middle of the street where he could barely see it and his daggers were tucked into his boots. He growled at this but froze as he heard two sets of feet approach.

He stared up as the man with the gun crouched down and stared at him. Taking in his form that couldn't move.

"What a shame, that I must say. You think you could disrupt our money flow. Aye, but you thought wrong. And I would love to take back those two lives that were so easily squashed"

For the first time that Calder dealt with enemies, he could feel the lure and full adrenaline of fear and what others felt of it. His eyes darted back and forth as he tried to twist and turn. Shouting out in pain as he saw the other man stand and cock the gun.

"You motherfucker" he snarled at the man. Reading for the blow of the gun and into nothingness. He tuned out and after a couple of seconds, realizing no gun shot was heard and he still felt pain.

Opening the eye that did not bleed, he stared at a decapitated head in astonishment. All his pain being forgotten. The body laying a couple feet away. He heard his sword drop and looked up to see the man with the scar now crouching down to him.

The guy smiled a little and it faded away into a grim nothingness.  
Standing up again he seemed to fully inspect the car and Calder finally relaxed. Feeling the pain creeping up on him again. He didn't trust the man but he surly knew he was trying to help him.

The car screeched and the hing of the door bolted back into its place. The dark haired man moving the door outwards. His muscles relaxing as the task was finished. The his attention turned on the dash board.

"Where are your legs stuck?" His gruffly but quiet voice came out as he got to his knees to help Calder more better. GunHild breathed, gathering energy to reply. His mind not processing English correctly.

"Der... der.. steering wheel" he puffed out, lying his head down. The man nodded and moved some bit, reaching for the steering wheel. His shoulder slightly bumping Calder's head

"So as I pull this up your going to have to help me, yes? And I pull the steering wheel, your going to have to slide your shoulder down to lie on your back" he looked at Calder, the scar almost invincible in the night.

Calder didn't say anything, he just nodded as the man counted down. As he said, Calder grabbed the edge of the car and pulled, sliding his back and and resting his injured shoulder on the side of the man. He gasped in pain as he rolled out into the concrete. Heaving breathes as he looked around.

Lights, so many lights from buildings. So many people on the sidelines and then he looked at his car. It was demolished, completely.  
He turned to see the scarred man stand. He dragged himself to his feet as he heard people scream and steadied a booted foot under himself.

With great strength he stood to his full height, his left arm completely immobile. With his right bloodied hand he took out his phone but as he tired to step forward he stumbled. Pain covering his senses. Pain pushing beneath his eyes, his knees buckled and he fell. It seemed as if he was going in slow motion but he knew it was much, much faster.

As he fell he glimpsed the strange man trying to catch him but failing to do so. The last thing he saw before he blacked out was a woman standing off to the side, on the grass near a car. A maroon dress twitching in the wind and hair dark like the night.

 

* * *

 

 

Raiden watched as the man collapsed on the ground, blacking out. Blood was leaking everywhere, all over his clothes and onto the pavement. He panicked, rushing to the man's side.

He didn't know why he saved him. Maybe it was because he saw something deep within the taller man he had never known. Maybe, he wouldn't find out for his entire life.

As he rested on his knees, carefully pushing the man on his back, he saw a scattered phone ringing. A few inches away from the man’s hands. The caller ID read Zven WS and he doubted for a second.

Relenting, Raiden picked it up and answered as he leaned over the hazel eyed man. Trying to wake him up. Fearful at how much blood the man was losing.

"Calder, has everything been dealt with?" A voice on the other end started up as Raiden raised his eyes. 'Calder? An unusual name but he sure as hell had one to'.

Before the man named Zven could say again something, he began speaking. He didn't know what to say, time was surly running out and unthought words rushed from his mouth.

"Your friend Calder, he... he was involved in a fight, his car flipped and he's bleeding out right here... You need to get him to the ambulance or something" his words rushed to the unfortunate of himself. Silence lingered on the other end for seconds, but it felt like hours. He held his breath at this as the voice returned.

"I sure as hell don't know who you are but he cannot go to the hospital, what state is he even in?" The other proceeds to acknowledged this, his voice now beckoning a sort of frightmeant fringe on it.

He answers quickly so, "he is not in good shape. Blood is leaking quickly from his shoulder, left eye and arm. His legs are damaged but not great”, he huffed as he quickly grabbed the sword. He had an odd feeling that it had immense importance to the raven haired man.

With that he focused on lifting the dead weight of the strange man into his arms. He grunted, air quickly leaving his lungs at the others weight. The thought of the other truck raced through his head as he tried to walk with quick tempo to the truck.

This man wasn't normal to the eye and he could oddly see that, it confused him so. His feet clicked together as he neared the truck, instruction flowing into his ear from the phone that was squashed into his neck. His arms strained as he heard police sirens coming closer, he needed to hurry.

Struggling with the weight, fearing the police as he his hand grasped back door of the truck. Carefully laying the man, Calder, down on his back. Making sure that the injured shoulder was supported. The man moaned in pain, Raiden grimaced.

Shutting the door, paying close mind not to hurt him he made his way to the driver's door. Opening it and pulling himself up, slamming the door and placing the sword down next to him. He sighed with relief as the key was still inside the ignition.

His hands shook as he once gain took the phone to his ear, started the truck and spun the wheels. The truck slightly jolted to the side and raced off. One hand on the wheel, the other on the phone. His mind was racing as he barely registered what Zven was telling him, of where to head to. His hands were shaking to much and he nearly crashed into another car, he cursed himself for this.

Quickly looking back at the man, Calder's head was rolled towards him and he could see his eyes shifting wildly behind the eyelids. Turning his head, he placed Calder's phone in his pocket and turned the wheel. Sure enough, they were far from the original scene and he could now breathe partly.

A pained moan erupted from Calder as he took a not so kind turn, his shoulders stiffened. 'Damn himself! Be careful!' He didn't want to hurt the other man, even at the state he was already in.

His arms tensed as he neared the last street, bearing tension of himself. Slowing the truck, he peered out as he saw a man hurry to the car, a worried expression written on his face. He shut the truck off and opened the door, closing it as he met the stranger.

"Calder?" The man asked with a clear voice and he nodded. The man, Zven, he presumed was standing before him, twitching occasionally. The other’s face was shrouded in darkness, in which he couldn't see his properly. He kept a blank expression as he opened the back door, reveling the blood covered Calder.

He brought his arm up to the man’s legs and softly lifted him off of the truck’s backseat. Being careful of the many cuts that were bleeding rapidly. His hands digging slightly into the clothing of the man he had saved. Pushing his other arm under the back of Calder, he lifted him. He had to be cautious, any jolt could potentially hurt him far worse, or wake him up for that matter.

Quickly supporting Calder’s head on his chest. He was certainly a tall man and Raiden made sure this didn’t throw him off balance. Zven’s eyes moved back and forth, expression turning into fright meant now. Looking back at the truck it was filled with blood but he didn’t give a particular shit about it.

“This way quickly!” Zven announced as he turned, walking ahead.

Raiden huffed as he followed. It wasen’t exactly easy to follow someone’s in nearly blackness but Raiden tried his best.

“What exactly happened out there?” The question nearly made him trip and he panicked for a split second. Should he reveal the real truth? Oh well fuck, he really had nothing to lose!

He gulped and began as he followed with unsteady legs.

“I... I am uncertain. All I know is that I was going along with my friend to sell some sort of drug or whatever and then we were.... I don’t know, ambushed? Well, ambushed by your friend here and I ran!” He breathed out, cringing partly at what the other man might do. But the man didn’t stop nor did a change in his shoulders happen, he only replied.

“I understand, but is there more. How did he get like this?” Zven waves his hand around, indicating Calder as he stopped by a door with lights above. Raiden stopping by him.

He didn’t answer for a second, now able to see the other man with lighting. The other guy wore a type of old military high ranking cap while auburn hair poked out from underneath. The rest of his clothes were all black while he was taller then Raiden but quite battered. His face showed age but the indicator was small.

Zven quickly looked at him, paying little mind and bending to see Calder. The man grimaced at what he saw.

“He’ll need surgery. He doesn’t have long yet. Let’s go”. Raiden nodded as he followed the auburn haired man inside. Into, again darkly lit spaces.

Realizing he hadn’t answered the previous question before he resumed with partly caution.

“After that my friend, we got to his truck and sped off. I thought we were done for good but he had other things planned. He stopped the truck three miles down the road and got out. I didn’t know what he was going to do but then he pulled out a gun”. Raiden breathed, gulping in air as he turned multiple corners. Not questioning where they were headed. Reading to finish the short story.

“I saw a Lamborghini speeding very fast towards us he and shot at it multiple times. If you know, that was your friend’s car. The bullets hit the windshield and tire forcing the car to flip multiple times in the air and crash...... I... he certainly got stuck underneath and before I knew it my friend was walking towards the car”.

They now entered another corridor, one more brightly lit and Raiden could see it was a dead end. Nearing a destination. Scrambling to finish he started again before Zven WS could interrupt.

“I didn’t know at the time it was the man who ambushed us but I may have had the slight idea it was him. I don’t know why I did this. I think because I didn’t want my friend killing whoever it was... I picked up his sword and right before he shot his gun... I .... I... I cut off his head”. Raiden sputtered out, eyes rapidly looking back and forth. Within seconds the reached a large room, entering.

“There isn’t much to say about that than thank you. I know you lost your friend and saved mine. You’ll won’t be killed for it” The auburn man looked straight at him and pointed to a flat surfaces table.

“There, set him down. I’ll being doing the surgery, I’ve been trained. You can view from over there” Zven had a modern tone to his voice as he pointed to a chair near the former of the room. Raiden nodded as he approached the table.

Clutching the soft material of Calder’s clothing, he gently laid him down. Being mindful of the wounds he released his grip and slid his arms away. Moving back as the passed out man twitched slightly.

Raiden looked up, now finally realizing what Zven has said. Wordiness edging on his senses.

“Whatcha mean I won’t be killed for it? Was I already on the death sentence?” His fearfulness was edging in his voice and he could tell the other man could hear that clearly. Raiden sat down in the chair, watching and waiting.

Zven turned around, hands gloved and hat off. He began peeling back the red vest carefully. As he worked he responded.

“You probably don’t realize but Calder here and myself work for Tricell and you can kinda guess why I said that before. You are safe, Tricell is falling and there’s no one left to defend it. In a matter of months it will be nothing more” Zven announced with a loud voice that echoed and Raiden shuddered.

“Okay...” being uncertain but believing he quickly changed the subject.

“Will he live?...” he asked this with a slow tone, eyes looking up. Zven looked up as he met his gaze.

“From what I can tell, I think he will. He has told me of something he drinks once every three months and he believes it keeps him alive.... I don’t believe it but I think it has in the past. We’ll see tonight” With that Zven got back to his main goal. Raiden did not want to dwell on the sight of Zven digging into flesh, it disturbed him. That the man could die while being operated on. He looked away as he heard the clatter of silver utensils and other things being moved around.

Blinding light flashed and he quickly looked away, tuning out. Anything that had to do with surgery or flesh bothered him, he shivered. He had no desire to see glass being removed from an eye. It slightly unevened him at the thought. For result, it always went back to the undead, always.

With this time he was able to picture things more clearly now. He realized he was siting within a Tricell compound and that unsettled him. Making him shift back and forth in his seat. But as he remembered and listened, there was none other people he had saw passing through the hallways or any other sounds. Zven was right, Tricell was falling. His shoulders relaxed once again he leaned back into the chair. Letting out a soft sigh he began to doze, as the minutes or hours ticked by.

He drifted in and out of sleep, dozing slightly. No dreams came and no relaxation came. Only stiffness in his back and legs. A crink in his neck that was very uncomfortable.

As he nearly fell into a deep sleep he awoke as he felt a tap resign on his shoulder. He started and soon stared up into the blue eyes of the man named Zven

With a blunt voice, Zven asked. “What is your name?” Raiden blinked up at Zven for a second and replied.

“Raiden” he stated it simply” Zven nodded and held out his hand.

“Well Raiden, nice to be getting to know you. An unpleasant way to meet but Calder will live” The man smiled as they shook hands and helped him up.

“What time is it?” He asked as he stretched his legs and back. Content that Calder will live. It was odd to think about being contempt that someone you didn’t have the slightest fact about would live.

“Early morning, five o’clock” Zven clicked his fingers and stopped at were Calder laid. He looked up at Raiden as the man trudged over.

“Y’know, the man you saved. His name is Calder GunHild, a Col. we’ve been friends for some time and even I don’t know much about him. I personally think you might have a good friendship with him. Even if you thought this was it”

Raiden stared at Zven and shrugged. “Maybe” he spoke, looking at Calder. It was odd to think of it that way. He didn’t have the mind set yet to think they would be friends. But stranger things had happened before.

“Anything else”? He asked politely, edging a line.

Zven nodded. “Yes actually.... He is going to be blind in his left eye. He’ll need someone to help him recover..... I think you would be that someone. Will you take up the offer? Zven stated it simply as the man rested his hand against the smooth surface of the operating table.

“Yes” His own voice startled him and he instantly regretted what he had said. Why couldn’t he think before he spoke? He couldn’t take it back now and so the challenge was set.

“Good, I don’t think I would be able to” Zven sighed and walked over to the chair and sat down, almost passing out.

Raiden was left standing there besides the now sleeping Calder. And he stood there and he thought and thought. Highly about many things including undead and viruses, evil touched people and good touched people. And through for may more minutes or even hours.

Raiden felt, it was perhaps one of the worse times he had been in besides the outbreak of the first year. He had been now out into a situation were he now couldn’t escape. He had dug a hole deep and it was only going to get deeper and he wouldn’t be able to escape. The scar was already set forth on both of their minds. These thoughts struggled and dazzled him in the head as he watched the sleeping man.

With raging surprise, the raven haired man opened his eyes, a hazel one flashing while his left now covered. A grey like a stormy day. He looked on stonely at Raiden, no emotion as he took in what he now saw. This startled Raiden as he didn't expect the man to wake. As for Zven the man raised his eyes, shaking his head and mumbling something to himself.

But instead of commenting on what one might think to say after they wake up in a different place, he voiced something strange. So strange that It boggled Raiden into confusion.

"There are only three reasons in life that explain why humans do things," he says sternly, but his voice is neither loud nor righteousness of a owner but soft and strange.

Calder's eyes locked dead on with his, and he shuddered.

_"We either do things for love, or hate, or we do them for money. Which reason was yours?"_


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Four months have past, Wesker is now dead, Tricell is collapsing.
> 
> As most of you readers know, there are cities growing and becoming intact, and a lot of times the fall once again
> 
> -None of the OC’s have any powers, that weird drink in CP:1 is like a super antibiotic

 

* * *

_Put myself through tests_  
_Move from east to west_  
_Fight for what is best_  
_Can't forgive the token stress_

 

* * *

 

**August 25, 2009, Germany**

 

“Calder”

The name ricocheted off of the apartment walls as Calder splashed cold water onto his face. Being mindful of his eye, shaking his head as the water drops flew.

The water was a refreshment from the days spent in bed and the few times he was able to shower. He inhaled as he turned to now see Raiden standing in the doorway, slightly leaning on it.

“You doing good?” Calder looked, he could easily meant that as a question or just even a day’s greeting. Calder didn’t really care about answering it. Pushing past Raiden with a slight limp he listened anyways.

There was no anything from the other man he bit he question. “Gute” Responding with a mumble, he made his way to the leather couch. Leg cramping slightly as he sat down, watching Raiden suspiciously. He winced as his leg spasmed once more, he tried not to show it but the other man caught on.

For Calder, he neither liked the way he had awoken to find, to the best that he was stuck with a stranger. He cursed Zven for this, though he might as well thank him for it. Raiden, the man he learned to be younger than him and that was born in the United States would be helping him recover since saving his life.

He should thank Raiden for his time to help him recover but apologies at this time would be embarrassing and down right weird. Calder didn’t know much really about Raiden.

Only leaving reasonable facts that were able to escape to Raiden’s knowledge. The dark haired man was still a stranger and he felt violated. The guy would have to prove himself once more, and that was probably impossible. The uncertainty of the man lurking to try to kill him was still painted in red and that was a warning sign.

Staring at the American man, he really didn’t know what to expect. Was this man here to kill him? Why did he save him in the first place? Did he even know what he was getting into? Into organizations which could kill him? He was only a simple civilian. More questions raced his brain and he longed for them to be answered. Once those were answered they wouldn’t be unanswered and it was at best to leave it be for the time being. They would be answered in time.

Raiden started forward and Calder scooted backwards and gradually picked up his sword. Not meeting his gaze, Raiden got the answer trudged off to the other side of the room. At that, Calder relaxed his shoulders. Realizing he was tense with suspicion he directed his attention elsewhere.

Sliding his fingers mindlessly along the upper side of the iron cut sword. They sat there for a brief moment of silence. He hated every second of it.

Raiden was the first to break the silence. Calder was dreading it as it came.

“Could I ask? How are wounds fairing?” His voice held worry and Calder shifted nervously. He was never like this, even when going into a building filled with B.O.W.s but this was slightly different.

Calder wanted nothing to do with Raiden. But neither was the man nor his question were about to be gone and nor was he going to be able to ignore them. Relenting, he finally spoke after a few agonizing seconds.

Turning his eyes away from the sword he looked out though the balcony. “They don’t hurt anymore besides a slight limp in za leg and eye. My shoulder is perfect fine” Sneering out the last words.

Picking up the sword he placed it against the wall and gradually made his way towards the balcony, opening the doors and sitting down on a sun chair.

Raiden joined him a few seconds later, sitting in the opposite chair. Calder glanced at him, Taking a cigarette out and lighting it. “Do you have to follow me there ever I go?” His voice was sharp and he ignored the guilt that spread around Raiden’s face.

The man opened his mouth, closed it and opened. His voice hitched every so seconds and Calder raised an eyebrow. “Vat?”

“I’m sorry I’m making you uncomfortable. I don’t want to ruin your life, I was technically brought into this by your friend. I........I did... Oh never mind...... All that I want you to know is that I am sorry and hopefully you don’t hate me.” Raiden looked gloomy and sat back stiffly.

Calder wondered if this was a good time to thank him but he had no clue. He wasn't one of those people that offered kindness to every person he met.

“Apologies accepted” The man nodded and smiled. Then looked to the burning sun.

As he took a drag from his cigarette, he thought for several seconds as he listen to the cars going through the streets below and people chatting that laced with the wind. Watching the grey smoke twirl and twin it’s way to freedom.

“Y’know, your never going to get some zing like this again.” He stated a fact perhaps. Raiden bunching up his face in confusion.

“Why you say that?” He asked, turning his head towards Calder. The taller man only shook his head, smothering the fag out and enjoying the summer breeze.

“Only because everything great is short lived and dear is a gut feeling something is not right. The undead are involved” He shook his head at this. Stretching, waiting.

The reply came faster than he expected. “I know, many times I wish this outbreak didn’t happen. What do you think about it?” Raiden eyed him with curiosity as he lent forward.

Calder sniffed “It depends mostly. Is gute and bad at the same time. It’s had that it’s relentless and endless organizations are making it worse. While it’s slightly beneficial.” Standing to look over the balcony, he viewed the many cars.

“I guess your right in a way” The soft voice spoke besides him, he jumped at it seeing the man.

“Oh, sorry” Raiden mumbled.He was still greatly unused to not seeing out of his left eye. It greatly bit a giant hole out of his ego.

“Didn’t you work with... Tricell before?” The question was rather... vague, a type of pause to insure what he wanted to do. He sighed and chose to answer it. Better now than in a worse situation.

“Yes” he replied simply and curtly, turning on his heel and walking inside.

Footsteps resounded behind him as he stopped, rolling his shoulders. “Tricell is dead, there is no worry now. The organization found me at one point, I was in a bad situation, they asked. I accepted, I knew that I was getting into and I ignored it.... Now that I look back,.. I think there was probably a better choice to take..” He covered his eyes with his hand, shaking his head. Trauma, any sorts. It was bothering him and he couldn’t admit to it. It was one of his many problems.

“You..... You really didn’t have to expand it, but it’s good to know” Raiden gave a slight smile at him and Calder wondered what ever went on in the man’s brain. From the past months or so, the man was cautious, shy perhaps. Trying to tread lightly, yet so enduring and brave when it came down to the bone. It was difficult to image perhaps, though it still intrigued Calder.

“Calder?... Why are you staring?” The voice dragged him from his thoughts. The bluntness of the statement catching him, making fluster at the fact.

“Bitte, I was caught in thoughts” Propping his arms on his legs, he relaxed his shoulders. The heat of the day slightly nagging him but he didn’t mind. What he did mind was that of the information that was seeking through him like a river. He wasn’t being very cautious, cursing himself for this he lightly flicked his temple.

Raiden nodded, taking it lightly, something that would pass by. “I was thinking that we should take a walk... I know you haven’t really been out. You think it’s a good idea?” He spoke with a amount of concern in his voice.

“Sure” It was better than nothing and he needed it desperately. For once he hoped everything would go alright. Though everyone was in danger no matter what.

“You all ready”

“Yeah” Calder nodded and got up. Quickly finding his way to where his boots were. As he pulled them on he spoke. His voice was a little weird sounding but he shrugged it off. A matter of what he felt.

“You think we need our guns?” He frowned as he said this. Mentally slapping himself for this. He didn’t need permission, besides, he didn’t even know if Raiden had any training with weapons.

And should he even be out walking with a person he had just recently met? ‘Stop it Calder!...You can trust him.” His thoughts wracked his brain as Raiden replied. He really didn’t know who to trust for a matter of fact now.

“I guess, I haven’t really been trained. Whatever you feel is necessary” the man replied. Calder nodded. Quickly walking down the hallway, into his bedroom. Shuffling through items he picked up two Beretta’s. Grabbing a light jacket he headed back through hallway to where Raiden waited.

“Here” he held out the jacket, Raiden frowned. Shaking it, the man relented and grabbed it. Shrugging it on, it fit nicely. He held out the gun, the back of his hairs standing on end. Again, the man frowned but took the gun none the less. “Put it inside your jacket” he spoke as he did the same. Unlocking the door and heading out to a stairwell.

He grunted as his legs descended, more weight than necessary was put on his legs. Maybe he should of taken the elevator. But the more pain the better. He reached the end of the second stairwell, looking back as Raiden reached him. He still held the gun. Calder scoffed, slight annoyance brimming.

“Take it” Taking the gun he stepped up to Raiden. Grabbing the hem of the brown light jacket and twisting it so the inside showed. Ignoring Raiden all together, he placed the Beretta inside a special pocket. Letting go he turned, descending the last stairwell.

Partial disgust ran through him, he would of rather not have touched Raiden. But in reality the man meant no harm true fully, he was lucky that Raiden was there to help him recover. Calder gritted his teeth, he couldn’t wait till the man would be gone. Freedom once more.

Opening the steel door, he stepped out into the scorching sun. Huffing out a breath at the heat. It wasn't terribly bad, but such that it nagged the mind. Calder heard the other man step besides him, on his good side.

“You can take the lead” He really would rather not have Raiden to lead. Though he knew where they were going. If the route went a different way he would surly disband the man.

Raiden didn’t respond and soon took a few steps in front of Calder. As they trudged along, enjoying the sound around them. Calder pondered.

He hadn’t been outside truthfully since the accident. His shoulder still stung once in a while and his left eye burned. He was lucky he survived at all, he shook his head. Clearing his thoughts as Raiden looked back. The man was to caring for his own good, and Calder stared back blankly.

“Nice out, isn’t it?” A soft question and he answered with more enthusiasm than he liked.

“Ja, it’s great” Rolling his head they turned a corner. Waking along the sidewalk, staring at the green trees and shiny cars. As they entered a more crowed part of the city Calder strengthened his pace, almost shoulder to shoulder with Raiden. He sniffed at the air, frowning at the acid taste.

“Do y’know where your even going?” He inclined his head towards Raiden and the guy nodded. He scrunched his eyes in confusion, “Hos? Your Amerikan, I don’t think you’ve been here really!”

Raiden shrugged. “Before that fight my friend, a few weeks before took me over here. We toured the city some... So I have a pretty good idea where we’re going” Calder gave a small smile.

They made it a couple more blocks before Raiden interrupted the peace once more. Calder grunted, wanting only silence.

“Is your leg okay? If it hurts we can go back.” Raiden tipped his head back as they kept walking.

“No, it’s fine” He ignored Raiden’s eyes. “Besides, I rather have some fresh air before the sun starts to set.” He raised his head up to the sun, watching as it moved into the 16:00 position.

“Sure, lets keep going” Dogs barked and once and a while a car honked. His legs already felt better, his head much clearer. They were now farther from the denser traffic, to the more suburban part, not terribly far from the apartment. A cooler breeze resided here and Raiden suddenly stopped.

The blue eyed man stared into the distance, to the Fiji waters colored sky. His shoulders tensed as his breath hitched. “I feel like there is something wrong... Something wrong is gonna happen” His voice stuttered as he looked back to his path.

Calder cocked his head. How could he feel the same thing? That weird gut feeling. He looked at Raiden confused. Stepping to side he looked down at him. Eyes filled with worry.

“Vat does it feel like? A gut feeling? He inclined his head, stepping in front of the man and looking into his eyes. Raiden stared back at him with stormy blue eyes.

“Yeah, weird. Why? Do you know anything of it?” Raiden leaned his head forwards, closer than Calder would of liked. He could feel his hot breath against his face.

“Yes I have, I would of rather not but I do not know what it means.” He straightened his back as people moved around them.

“Do you ever think that it’s slightly weird that how people can act like this knowing that the undead are still out there... and these .... these organizations? Calder?”

He shifted his feet, making sure no one was around them at the time he answered. “Ja, that is another reason I think this strange feeling is happening. All these bustling cities, something is bound to happen.”

Puffing our air, he let his weight be settled on his right leg, tipping his head up to the clear sky. Mind his mouth, he shouldn’t have spoke that.

A yell erupted and Calder whipped his head back down to Earth. Watching as a man flew into Raiden, knocking the stranger to the ground. As for Raiden, he was knocked off of his feet and before he hit the ground Calder surged forward.

Catching him around the torso from behind. Grunting with Raiden’s weight he lifted him back to his feet. His muscles strained from this, hurting as he puffed.

As he felt sure Raiden had his footing he released him, turning to the stranger.

“Thanks” The grumble came from besides him on his blind side, he only huffed in response. The other man rose to his feet rather quickly and Calder watched cautiously. The man was certainly athletic and Calder could clearly see for a slight second, a Glock sticking out from under his coat. He backed away uneasily, sliding his left hand onto Raiden’s shoulder with no thought.

It wasn't intimate, far opposite of that. Slightly pulling on Raiden’s shoulder, tugging him away. Raiden looked at him, then looked back for a second and turned. Question lighting his eyes but surprisingly they didn’t get anywhere.

“Wait” Calder instantly tensed, sickness spreading in his stomach as he turned quickly back to the other man. Getting a better look he could clearly see that the man was as tall as him. Hair starting to grey as a scar lined across his face. A slightly slimmer one than Raiden’s but definitely intimidating. A grey suit to top it off with black dress shoes.

“What du you want” He spoke with a low tone, having a feeling this man was no good. Head bent down, Calder could feel Raiden watching from behind him.

“You look like you’ve been through some deep shit. And your friend there, he’s not from around this country, ain’t he?” Than man turned his head, curiously.

“So?” He snarled out the words, panicking slightly. The other man just shook his head.

“Nah, I was looking for a couple of people by the name of Zven WolffenStein and his friend Calder GunHild. I don’t know what they look like, so I was wondering if you knew?”

Calder could practically feel his heartbeat skip a beat and he turned his head to glare at Raiden. Telling him to keep quiet.

“I do know slight information on people called that... But before I tell you, why are you looking and who are you?” Calder could see now that the other man was deciding his decision, his thoughts whirling.

Then the man stopped and looked him dead in the eye. In a instant once meeting eye contact, the man was fooling him. He knew who he was looking for and he just saw his prey.

“My name is Glenn Arias, I’m a black market dealer. I’ve heard rumors that these two people have a drug if some sort that could sell for some money. I want to meet with them and see if I can buy it” The guy’s shoulders straightened and Calder breathed.

He seriously needed to get away from the man, for his sake and Raiden’s. He could already see the blood that was creeping towards him. It was no denying the man was lying at the fact that he wanted to ‘Buy’ the drug. He wanted to assassinate and Calder wasn’t in the state to handle a battle with a trained personnel. There was no way out of this now, Arias had seen who hr was. Calder could see his hand creeping towards his gun.

“Get behind me” he mumbled it out, loud enough for Raiden to hear. Raiden didn’t say anything and obeyed. Calder’s hand twitched as he saw Arias’s knees bend. His find must be very important for a fight.

Whipping around, Calder collided with Raiden purposely. As he knocked Raiden back he quickly placed his left hand under Raiden’s head as they both fell to the ground. Reaching at the same time for his gun he tugged it from it’s sheath and fired it off beginning him. Blind faith as his hand screamed as it hit pavement. Gritting his teeth he quickly pulled Raiden’s Beretta out and turned, both guns out.

His right eye took everything in. Arias still stood, but the Glock he had retrieved now was splintered to bits. Shattered around the hot cement. The man glared at him with deadly eyes.

“Nice move” the guy sneered and Calder moved to the right side of Raiden. He didn’t provoke anything and waited to see the next move. The man was to talkative for his own good.

“How you sought it?” Calder inquired as he stood. Leaning down, Raiden hooked his hand around his bicep. Pulling the shorter man up to a stand. He passed the second Beretta back over to Raiden.

Glenn Arias grinned. “It’s simple. Knowing who is who and testing what their reactions are, indicate fact from fiction.” Calder gritted his teeth, still having his weapon trained on the man. He wished he had his prized sword with him.

“What do you know of anything. Your not getting anywhere now. I razer not spill blood” With nervous reaction he fiddled with the magazine, snapping it back in. Switching it to his right hand he moved closer to Raiden. Shoulders touching he began, again backing the man up.

“Don’t you realize I will get what I want?” The man stepped forwards, retrieving a item from his pocket.

“That doesn’t matter. It wouldn’t matter for my part. I know what you want and will not apply to your standards.” His hand flicked to Arias as Raiden looked at him with big eyes, pointing.

“Is that what I think it is?” He whispered to Calder. The man was practically plastered to his side and he barley gave a glance to him. He was shaking a little bit, definitely scared, but he was brave. Calder could tell even If he didn’t think so or notice perhaps. Though it was very noticeable.

What Raiden was indicating was in fact now what was held between Arias’s fingers. The raven haired man tightened his grip on the Beretta and sniffed. The item that the black market dealer held was the vile in which he had claimed before the crash, at the mansion.

Being thrown around in the interior of the car certainly knocked it out of his pocket. It might of got lost into the crowd and there was a good chance that a high predator like Arias was in that crowd. He was.

Calder even wondered why the man had the nerve to show it to him or to even pick it up. Did he know it belonged to Raiden’s group or it came from Calder, him? Unlikely so.

“You know what this is right? A simple original virus dabbed with tainted bacteria. **BAM**! It’s mutated to a much higher ascended level virus. So if I shatter this you know what’s going to happen, so I want that other vile's you have” Arias stated, not even puffing as he burned holes into Calder.

In response, Gunhild snorted. Hyper aware that his heart beat had intensified even more, sweat now dripping from his face. “Either way your intent is to kill. Your not getting it and neither are you releasing that.” He pointed to the vile and narrowed his eyes.

Calder muscles bunched, waiting for the perfect time. When he noticed Arias’s shoulders relax as he looked to the tube. Calder pounced, using the front of the gun to ram it into the man’s stomach. The force knocked the guy down, being surprised. Calder quickly adjusted to using his body weight.

Glenn Arias hit the ground and the man quickly tried to pry something from his sleeve. Calder caught it, as it was in his right side. Instead he extracted a dagger and threw it aside. Growling at Arias, they both struggled.

Trying to punch the man in the face he only succeed in whipping the guy’s head to the pavement. Bringing up his knee it didn’t do anything good and they rolled around, scratching.

Blood leaked from their faces and it leaked down their skin. The cuts only intensifying the burn and adrenaline. It only fueled the rage. The crimson liquid flew everywhere as Calder elbowed the man in the neck. Missing the pressure point by mere inches.

“Don’t you dare shoot!” Calder screeched as he glimpsed Raiden pointing the Beretta at Arias. It was to risky and Arias was too smart for that. He knew what was going on behind him, that a gun was trained on his back. Calder only growled In frustration as he whipped his head straight. Becoming lightheaded as his head collided with Arias.

Realizing that wouldn’t work he went with one of his old tricks. As Arias punched him he made his head fall back automatically, flaming and closing his eyes.

He heard Arias snort. “Weak”. Feeling the other man’s grip loosen he surged forward. Glenn Arias eyes widened in surprise as Calder head butted him back. Grunting as he quickly took to his knees, he saw the vile go flying. It churned, rotating mid air as all three of them froze. Time seeming to stop.

Calder watched as the vile shattered and the liquid spread onto the cement. “Oh shit” he breathed as he leaped to his feet. It was also airborne and Calder quickly backed away.

Laughter erupted from Arias as the man turned to them. Regaining his balance. “Whatever, I’ll make my own” and with that he sprinted away.

“Go! We need to go, jetz!” His mind raced as he pushed Raiden forward, the man being shaken as he followed him. Calder sprinted across the pavement, dogging people as he heard heavy breathing behind him, it was Raiden.

He gritted his teeth. Why couldn’t he stop it? It happened and he didn’t try hard enough, he didn’t feel like dealing with this shit again. He wanted a peaceful life but that was the way it went in this world.

They needed to get out of the city before it spread, it could grow like wildfire. He grimaced as his weight tried it slow him down, legs screaming.

He huffed, moving his limbs as he heard Raiden say something to him. He only heard a vague voice, nothing was regressing in his head as of now. Greenery flashed by and the heat drowned him in his sweat. People yelled at him not knowing what was soon going to happen.

Horns blared as Calder jumped over the roof of one. Feet skimming it as he balanced himself again. Looking back to see if Raiden had gotten across the street. He did and Calder picked up his pace once again.

Fear propelled him as they finally made it to his street. It took to long to get there and Calder flung open the apartment door. Leaping up the steps two at a time

Flinging open his door he raced into the apartment. Almost falling over his own legs as he stumbled to his bedroom. He heard footsteps behind him and knew Raiden arrived. He was out of breath and his chest burned.

Scrambling around he collected his sword, strap, two P90’s, daggers, and Berettas. Dumping them onto the black silken sheets of the bed he snatched his thigh and belt holsters.

“What are we going to do?” A panicked reply cams from behind him. Calder didn’t respond right away, his heart rate had well gone over and his head was screeching.

“Where going to get out of this city one way or another“ His voice hitched as he threw the sword strap over his head, tightening it to his his body. Grabbing four holsters belts he attached them to his legs and belt. Quickly turning to his closet, rummaging through it and bringing back multiple magazines filled to the brim.

Hands shaking, he loaded them into each of the berettas. Placing the daggers in his boots. He placed four berttas on himself, then turned to Raiden.

“Sie... You know anything about guns?” He could feel himself vibrating from adrenaline. He was unsure at how much time they had left. It was all his fault and he tried the shake the guilt away.

“Yeah” Raiden spoke and Calder stuffed his arms full with Berttas and a P90. Raiden eyes widened as it was forced at him and Calder grabbed the remaining holsters. Quickly placing them on Raiden’s legs and belt. He gritted his teeth as he did this, the man would of been much slower. No time should be wasted as he took the Berettas from Raiden’s grip and stuffed them into the holsters. Retrieving other magazines, he did the same, only putting them into regular clothing pockets.

He held his sword in his right hand and the P90 with his other. Calder swung it a little, mere memories glazing him as he breathed in deep. He wasn't ready for another undead attack. It was too early, and Raiden had to come along with him. He had a debt to pay and many more for this man.

Looking back at Raiden he twitched his head. Quickly making his way across the hallway. Stopping at the bottom, to the grey steel door. He bored into it.

Calder cringed. He could hear just from inside the building, the now screams of terror. Bloodcurdling screams that chilled you right to the bone. He felt a shoulder brush his arm and he shook with fear. To say the least, being in a situation that you couldn’t control nor do anything else got to you. About many people being murderer and ripped apart right before his eyes. Blood being split and splattered everywhere took a toll on his mentality. He did not want to deal with it, nor did Raiden.

To prove, even the leaders of BSAA can have times of fearful moments. Calder felt like them, in a situation that you could of stopped this but didn’t do anything. Only he didn’t want to save everybody, he wanted to survive. He wasn’t a proud Colonel. He wasn’t fit in the mental mind to go out on the field and defend. The undead gave everybody the creeps and so it did to himself.

He nearly jumped as Raiden’s hand came to rest on his shoulder.

“You good?” He heard the fear in the man’s voice. He couldn’t let him down, he had a debt to repay.

“Ja” he breathed the word out and with force bursted out of the door into discord. He heard Raiden gasp behind him as they took in the sight that was laid before them.


	4. Chapter 4

 

* * *

 

Confusion  
Solution  
Conclusion  
Resolution  
I can feel, I can see the resolution  
I do  
I can see the resolution  
I do  
I can see

 

* * *

 

**August 25th, 2009, Germany**

People bolted, shrieking bloody murder, tripped, eyes wild. The police’s sirens simultaneously screeching. Bullets being fired off.

Plowing into the chaos, Calder looked through the discord. Fire was beginning to rage from crashed cars, water spewed from fire-high drents and he knew soon enough buildings might tip and that would be the end.

At the thought of buildings collapsing and seeing the undead he panicked for a split second.

For the first time in years he laid eyes on a moving undead, a horde more likely to say. Some so mutated and others the regular basic. It was disturbing as they walked and bit into the flesh of the living.

His body froze on itself, hands shaking, almost dropping his sword all the while. But his view was obscured by Raiden. His face pleading, terrified.

“Snap out of it! Don’t be scared, I know you’ve been through this and I haven’t. I need you to lead me and yourself to somewhere safer. You have done this before and once more” the man shook his shoulder and with a strong push sent him stumbling forwards.

His legs almost buckled and he desperately held it. Regaining balance he looked back to Raiden in the chaos and nodded. Recovering his mentality he took to a sprint.

Singling to the East he started to run full fled, looking back just in case. Arias was to the west, East was the bet. The undead wouldn’t have reached there yet and there was no Tricell or BSAA to save them. Raiden was at a pace right behind him and they ran forward.

Radien soon came to a pace besides him, shoulder to shoulder their pace began to slow. Stamina running out as their sides now adorned pain. Decimated cars were scattered but the living people screaming with trepidation.

“Hurry!” Calder shook his head as Raiden gained ground in front of him. He was losing ground and panicking but in solace, they had weapons. His sword was slowing him down, he carried to much weight. Besides, he never had stamina.

His sides hurt and he couldn’t hold it, not even the adrenaline fear gave was helping him. He began to jog, puffing as Raiden joined him.

“How far are they behind us?” Calder only shook his head. He didn’t know.

“By now, they should be surrounding the city. Outbreaks are like wildfire. We need to be in a less denser place” Calder quickened and turned, veering to the side into a alleyway. Their feet slapped against the ground and now before them a couple of deadly mutated B.O.W.s were mulling around. Clawing against the glass of the building besides them.

As they approached, Calder whipped out his sword. With a yell he swung, grimacing as the blade cut through the now newly rotten flesh. Decapitating the heads of two he turned to the third.

It screeched and wings instantaneously appeared. Twitching, they expanded and flapped. The screech that came from the monster deafened both men. A bullet rang off, barely catching the undead’s wing. Raiden cursed.

It did nothing as it flew up some feet and it dive-bombed. Raiden yelled in frustration and fear. Picking up his P90 he fired off multiple shots at the winged creature. Calder kneeled as bullets rained, watching Raiden. The gunfire stopped and with a loud thump the creatures body hit the pavement. Venom and teeth leaking from its mouth. They both shuddered. Raiden’s hands shook as he gave a look of terror at Calder.

Instead their ears popped as sirens blared. The old bombing signals or perhaps natural disasters warnings. It was loud and long, endless. Someone set it off, for the good of the surviving people. But it was not good for them, they couldn’t communicate of the insurance blare if it.

“C’mon” Raiden voiced and Calder nodded. Following the man as they jogged to the end of the street, turning a corner. They arrived onto another back steer. No undead lingered there and they made it safely pass. Calder look up and to the sides of the street and buildings. Fires raged and the a long distance ahead, screams echoed. They were getting close to where their destination for now was.

Something bad had to happen or had it already happened? The thought struck Calder and he worried immensely.

“Are we close to the borders east?” Raiden’s voice hitched as they once again turned onto a main road, coming to a stop as undead lined their path. Blocking.

“Couple more blocks” Calder yelled as he fired off some shots with the beretta. “I made sure when I got my apartment, I didn’t live terrible deep into the city. Just in case this happened” he huffed as two more dropped dead and dodged as one attacked. Rolling to the side. Raiden killing it with a bullet.

The man seems to pick up naturally even though he had never really used a gun before. Maybe Calder should train him one day. Though that thought was lost and forgotten long ago as they worked together. Clearing a path among the newly wreckage. It was certainly different and mind boggling that a city could get demolished by mutated living dead so fast and so efficiently.

As they jogged around another corner they were met with the sight of a women in crimson colors. Surrounded by a dozen or so undead.

Her face was scrunched up concentration, kicking out with black high heels and a deadly desert eagle clutched in her hand.

Something sparked within Calder’s head. A memory he couldn’t quite place as he stared. Shaking his head and moving forward, shooting off two bullets. He didn’t wait to see were they landed and turned. Sword taking over as he swung with ferocity to the incoming undead. Eight of them, all in a group. A flurry of undead.

Two were mutated badly and their wings scorched, nearly breaking off. Both were viciously spitting out hot venom.

He grinned as he was finally able to use his sword. Prized, he obsessed over it constantly. Swinging upwards he cut through flesh. Cutting off an arm, he growled as he forced his sword to the right, cutting off a head.

Bullets rang and he ducked. Three more fell and he surged forth. Puncturing the silver dagger into the heart, pulling out as it dropped dead. Three remained and he quickly slashed through the wings of the two. Finishing it off with cutting both their heads off fairly quickly. The winged undead didn’t move much, their wings weighed them down tremendously.

As he was dealing with the winged creatures. Calder looked back at the woman in red who was nearly finished killing her group of undead. He didn’t notice the venomous one had silently, stealthily creeped up on him. Some were smarter and some dumber, it was confusing.

“Behind you!” Raiden screeched at him. He jumped at the shrill that was in Raiden’s voice and barely had time to retaliate the monster. Plunging the sword backwards, behind himself he felt it slice through rotten flesh. Gracefully turning with the sword still in hand he ripped it out. The venomous B.O.W. didn’t even flinch. With a grip on the sword he ducked as it clawed at him. Rolling to the side as he narrowly escaped the jet black hot acid. He watched it smoked on the concrete where he once was just standing.

Looking back up to the undead he once again swung his sword, cutting into the side of it. He jerked the sword as it manages to wedge itself into the bone. It was firmly dug in and he quickly backed off.

The blade glinted with blood as it stuck out uncomfortably from the waist of the B.O.W. Taking out his Beretta he backed up to Raiden and began firing off a round. Their shots fired in unison as the monster screeched and staggered forward. Venom flying and splashing everywhere.

Within seconds it fell dead. Black oozed onto the pavement and Calder hurried forward. Snatching the hilt of his sword he pulled. Releasing it from its capture. Hissing as venom nearly grazed his skin. He grimaced at the sword. It was covered in inky slime.

More undead were closing in on them and he turned. Sheathing his sword he fired off a bullet at the finale B.O.W. The dark haired lady was still fighting. Her breathing was coming at little ragged and she turned to them as the last B.O.W. fell dead at her feat.

She glared at him and he scowled back. She quickly grabbed her Glock and pointed it at them. Not relenting. Calder inwardly sighed. This stupid shit again. He realized he better speak before anything got brutal again. He was beaten by Raiden and he snapped his mouth closed.

“Look, Miss. We want nothing to do with you murdering people or us for that matter. We are trying to get to the edge of the city, I would rather be on our way without trouble than a fight. If that’s all the same to you?” Calder gritted his teeth at Raiden’s idioticy. There was better ways to go about that. He nudged Raiden over and took a step towards the woman.

Her eye twitched and she slightly lowered her gun. Cocking her hip out she narrowed her eyes. “First lets get to a safer spot then I want information. I think you know much more than what you seem”

She walked off and they followed. The undead groaned behind them and to their sides as they turned to a jog, turning a couple of corners till she stopped.

“Now, explain or I might kill you” The woman ordered without hesitation. Giving a warning glance to Raiden he answered.

“First I think you can tell. He and I, like he said are trying to get out of this now expanding hell Hole. The outbreak started approximately forty five minutes ago. A person did start this chaos and I know who you are and why you’ve had gotten here so fast and why. I personally would like to tell you who but he is long gone right now. You won’t find any evidence. I will give you the name and description in return for a get away car.” He flashed a insincere smile at her. The woman’s expression turned to anger.

“You will do no such thing. The possibilities of that are minor and you, you are infamous among secrets, Mr. GunHild.”

Laughter bubbled from his chest. It expanded until he was expressing it loudly. Quickly snapping his mouth shut feeling his upper lip curl into a snarl. This side of him, rather he never to be touched leaked out. It was a default, a mechanism to help in times of need and it surly could leave a dent.

“I care for the well-being of my life. I will give down my life to save others if there’s to save. Apparently the city of Berlin is going down in flames as we speak. The city virus now is infected the whole area and you have the mind to tell me you are refusing. If you know who I am, tell me that I am lying. That I don’t give a shit about this virus” Pushing his shoulders back he barely contained a growl at the woman.

“Miss Wong, what do you have to say?” He was over doing it, yes. But it had to be done. Even as Raiden stared at him in a horrific expression.

She didn't even blink and anger rose in his gut. He watched with a whirl of her hand as she sheathed her gun and gave them a dry expression.

“Alright. I can’t denie what your saying. The city is nearly collapsed and probably in a matter of minutes. If what you say is true” She looked pointedly at Raiden “I will spare both of you and take you with me. I do warn you that if you try to subdue me it won’t go well.”

“And I better get that person’s name” She flicked her neck, watching as an undead stumbled towards them from afar.

Adding ..”We are going East as you were headed recently. I have a vehicle parked there and when we get to this vehicle I want you to tell me everything you know” She scoffed and turned. They followed.

The moans followed them from behind. The undead were on their heels. Ada Wong led the way, she was mumbling things to herself.

Calder’s attention landed on Raiden. The man looked petrified. His hands still shook slightly, face flushed. Calder quickly stepped in line with him. Trusting Ada wouldn’t bring them into a trap he turned his attention to Raiden.

They passed another street of olden buildings and a scream was heard. Raiden jumped, puffing out air faster than needed.

Finally noticing that Calder was next to him. As they walked, the shorter man started into Calder’s eyes. He thought he might even been staring into his soul. His grip tightened on the Beretta.Searching his eyes. he found nothing of what he wanted. Little of what it felt like to be walking through this hell hole.

For Calder, what was he searching for? The realization drawing on him that indeed, he was searching for something. Something he couldn’t quite place.

Raiden’s eyes. Mein Gott, Calder thought. He had never noticed before. The man had two different colored eyes. How silly of him that he had never noticed. Heterochromia was the word to describe it. One blue one brown amber. It was perhaps one of the few things Calder thoughts was mesmerizing. Instead he spoke on a different matter.

“You think we are going to make it out alive?” His voice dripped with fear, unsteadiness, trepidation.

“Ja. Yes, very much.” He gave a genuine smile to Raiden. One that rarely showed itself. Then moving back to the task at hand they followed Ada across several dozen streets. The shadows of old stone buildings made decades ago.

They quietly entered another street and Calder tried not to gulp. His throat jamming as he looked up. A building was perched sideways, it’s weight resting on another that sat across the street. The building was being devoured by flames, all the while crackling and groaning. Something was about to go wrong, Calder could feel it in his gut.

No undead lined the street as he picked up his pace. Neck twitching, a tick. He hated it. Ada looked up as well, she didn’t seem all that bothered. Raiden didn’t seem to notice. The two colored eyes irises was lost to what street layed ahead. Unknowing.

His head snapped up as the steel inside the stone groaned. “Ah shit” He sucked in a breath as a piece of stone fell in front of him. He jumped almost losing his Beretta.

“Move! Move!” He screeched at Ada and Raiden. Raiden startled and looked up, finally realizing. He froze as all color drained from his face. Ada was already sprinting to he end of the street. Barely there. Her high heels clopping along-st the stone.

The steel moaned and began to rain and patter pieces that fell to them. Anxiety threatened Calder’s senses but he desperately refused it. Raiden was stuck stone still, for obviously reasons.

Sheathing his Beretta, Calder gripped Raiden’s bicep. Staring down at the shorter man, “Radien... Radien!! Move!” The man jolted and looked sharply at Calder for a moment. His surprised, rolling his eyes but instead jumped as a chunk of rock crashed to his side.

With no time to spear he shoved Raiden forward. The man stumbles but regained his balance and Raiden took off sprinting. Calder started spiriting too, easily catching up to Raiden. They dashed In unison, feet slapping against the ground.

He could feel the heat from the fire that raged above them. At the moment they were expanding the distance of the crumbling rock but still underneath the building. The heat grazed Calder and he could feel himself starting to sweat.

A loud crash sounded and then another and another. The building began to fall apart altogether and Raiden yelped as a piece hit his shoulder. Bit lightly but not life damaging.

They reached the edge of the street and turned just as the whole building collapsed. Ada stood next to them, unmoving and silent. Raiden leaned against Calder, breathing heavily.

“That... was close” He muttered as Raiden slowly nodded. Unfortunately they still had a couple of more streets to pass through and they grudgingly trekked on.

Moving through other various building, they became ragged. More slum like and painted with graffiti. The buildings got smaller as they finally broke the barrier city line and entered a stretch of woodland.

He nodded to Raiden, gently pushing his shoulder to grab his attention. “I will take the back” The man slightly smiled and jogged to close the distance, Calder followed.

Lowering his gun down to his thighs they jogged through the slight woodland. Listening to the ominous screeches and silence at times. Calder began to sweat. He was neither tuckered our at that matter, more of the fact of the stress and strain it was putting on him. The weight of the undead attack jostled him. Desperately trying to calm his heart, it didn’t work.

_Sixty four beats per minutes and rising._

Soon they broke the plain of woodland and a long screech erupted from somewhere. Both Raiden and Calder jumped. Ada kept determinedly walking forwards.

Within seconds his eyes locked into a dark vehicle as Ada led them towards it.

With the dark haired lady made it to the Jeep. Calder watched as Raiden quickly jumped into the passengers seat. Blood from the undead pouring down his clothes. His eyes were wide, whites clearly showing. His face was deadly pale, his lips nearly purple. His body shook and he looked on straight ahead.

Calder felt some sadness and kindness for him. Emotions he rather not dwell on. Shaking it away as he jumped into the Jeep’s back. Leg screaming as if tried to buckle, he poked his head out of the top. Keeping his P90 out to supervise as Ada started the vehicle.

“Where going to Dresden. Tell me the information. Then your on your own”

Glancing at Ada he nodded. The Beretta resting peacefully in his gloved hands. The Jeep jolsted forward as Ada reved the engine and took off. With his other hand he steadied himself.

Doubts skimmed the begining of his thoughts and he pushed it down. That was for a different time, not now. Dirt blew into his face as he searched the tree line. The scenery speeding pass them at an hazardous pace.

In a quick turn they were heading south, the correct direction towards Dresden. Soon enough they were in back roads, dirt being kicked up. Calder swiftly deeming it safe. He sat back down, rolling his shoulders from the stress. Looking at the front of the Jeep, Ada was not paying attention to him at this moment. As for Raiden, the two colored eyed man seemed to be unconscious. Passed out by the stress and fear, perhaps even the adrenaline.

Soon enough just like Raiden, his eyelids began to flutter. Trying to keep them open but to no avail. The sides of his vision getting blurry and then everything went black.

 

* * *

 

 

_The air was cool in the BSAA facility as Jill walked to Chris’s office._

_A folder was safely tucked under her arm as her gear clicked every step she took._

_What resides inside the folder was information that tipped back and forth on a very fine line of highly classified or unimportant._

_Jill had read over it many times when the information was filed to her. Where she was going was now the results of reading such folder of information. Jill presumed that in time more information would be released. She hoped so, they needed to retain the new virus quick. Alongside that, the virus had no name. It need one._

_Chris was the highest ranking officer along with Jill and slightly few others at the BSAA organization. He would make the desicious to name it._

_Though he had a lot of paperwork to do at this time. The aftermath for both of them of Wesker’s plans and the tyrant of the man being killed both took a tool on them. Even more so to Jill. She was still recovering unfortunately. Her hair was nicely dyed back into its own natural color._

_The strikingly maroon folder had approximately five papers so far. The first was an up to date for what had happen in Berlin. The second was of what the B.O.W. description and recounts of what they were doing precisely. The third and fourth were about separate people deemed dangerous or possibly started this mess. The last paper was on an incident that happened at least two months before that_

 

*

 

**01\. Folder- Document - 09**

Outbreak at Berlin city, Capital, Berlin, Germany, Eroupe, 52.52, 13.383333

Outbreak started estimated 3:00 pm.

Source unknown  
Type unknown  
Reason unknown

Reports of fires and screeching, video footage obtained reside from Berlin. More information is needed.

*

_It was a shame that nothing important resided on the first page. At least where it happened._

_The video footage was already stored on a hard drive which was tucked into Jill’s pocket._

 

*

 

**02\. Folder - Document - 09**

Repeated

Type: Unknwon  
Virus: Unknown

Accounts-Description

Similar to Original first virus, T virus sourced. B.O.W’s spit venom, acid like. Assorted have wings.

 

*

 

**03 - Folder - Document - 09**

**_Calder GunHild:_ **

Tricell agent

Formally Delta Force agent

Born in Germany, around 40ties in age

Ebony hair with tattoos in face. Notably lighting

6’4

Hazel eyes, left is blinded

Knows much in weapons, obtains a sword

Dealings with B.O.W.s, Unknown

* 

**_Raiden Montgomery:_ **

Archives bring up no information

Rumors was a dealer/smuggler

Two colored eyed

Dark brown hair, Red streaked

Age is unknown

Height approximately 5’10

Doesn’t have records to do with B.O.W.s

*

 

**04 - Folder - Document - 09**

2 months ago from today:

Mansion on west end of Berlin. Called Chalet club inside a mansion. Caught fire and exploded.

Witness say man with ebony hair, 6’4 that spoke English that was German was there.

BSAA agent Luciani Parker on shore leave assumed to be there on same night.

Reason for the fire is unknown. Believed to have started on the topmost floor.

Thirteen blocks away a crash with a Lamborghini happened. Around same time as fire break. Reports say there was a sword, a tall man with ebony hair, gun shots included.

Another party had tried to sabotage the man. Car flipped and crashed, a man reported to hold gun up to innocent ebony haired man.

Another male reported that he decapitated the male with the gun. Then took the injured ebony male with him and vanished.

*

_Jill stopped at Chris’s office door and knocked. A reply with sounded from behind the door and she entered swiftly._

_Chris was seated in his chair behind the desk. Feet kicked up ok the table. He seemed to have been dozing before she had interrupted._

_Slapping the folder on the desk along with the hard drive she looked pointedly at him. “Read this” and Chris did so._

_His face went through a couple of expressions through reviewing the folder and videos of he nodded. Off some where confusment and partial anger that Jill noted._

_“I want a squad of agents out there looking for those two men. They seem to know information”_

_“Yes sir” Jill replied, picking up the folder and hard drive._

_“What should we call this virus then?” She implied. Chris rubbed his eyes. Looking at her with tiredness._

_“Perhaps the Venom virus?” He responded cautiously. Jill shook her head. “Will do”._

_Winking at Chris she made her way out of his office. As she left she heard him mumble._

_“Another major city down. Is the world getting worse than it already can be?”_

—————————————————————

When Calder awoke, the sky was still as bright. Nothing darkening. He wondered how long he was out for a moment or two. Then realization hit him of what had happened and his head unexpectedly hit the seat. Hissing he sat up, picking up his fallen Beretta.

“Oh look whose finally up!” Ada half sneered half teased. Calder just rolled his eyes and assed the surroundings. That was the first most important task for him whenever he woke up. Survival instincts. Trees, grass, roads , snow and houses that sat quietly among the woodland.

Reaching forward he set his hand on Raiden’s shoulder and shook. tremendously. The man startled awake, gasping for breath. Then Calder turned to Ada.

“How far?”

Ada responded as she took a sharp turn. “Twenty minutes at the most”

The trees we’re clearing and other vehicles were running along with them. The area becoming denser with population. No one took notice.

“Now about the information you so closely guard” Her voice was clam but clipped and he despised it. Calder licked his lips. The dryness irritating.

Raiden didn’t say anything and he watched him with mild curiously.

With his Beretta in hand he began. Venomously spitting out each word. His accent heavy and dripping.

“Raiden and I had nozing to do vith zus in za first place. Ve vere unfortunately dragged into it and please leave your questions till za end. Danke. - Deciding to take a quick valk ve vent zrough some streets. A man known as Glenn Arias confronted us. A blackmarket dealer”

Calder was going to lie and he would surely do it. Twisting the reality of it a little so it fit better and the outcome was nicer for himself and Raiden. There would be no mansion incident told, no reference of it nor what Raiden’s buddies were doing. Such a simple web of deception that was hardly needed.

He continued. “Arias had said he vas looking for someone. More particularly me. The reason vas unknown vhy he vas looking for me. He did end up trying to kill or possibly disable myself. Ve overpowered him and he dropped that virus purposely onto the sidewalk. Saying he vould be back and zat za virus was mutated off of the very original. Zen za outbreak began”

Calder eyed Ada as he finished. He expression had neither changed throughout what he told. She didn’t ask questions, only responded with a shake of her head.

His mouth was viscously dry after talking and he sat back. Watching.

The Jeep stopped alongside a rode in Dresden. He had finished only minutes ago and was glad for the silence that has followed. Even Raiden seemed to enjoy it. For all the Calder danger they had walked on in the past few hours they had survived so far. More would surly come, Calder didn’t doubt that.

People walked clamly, unaware. Ada turned around to stare at Calder. “This is were you get off. Now go” She waves her hand at them. Raiden and Calder quickly scrambling to get out of the vehicle.

The crimson dressed woman eyed them one last time. “By the way, the BSAA are after you. A bounty per se.“ Her voice creaked in a ominous way. She flashed a smile as his head snapped to her then to the left at a flash of movement. A man had approached her, coming too the car. Brownish hair and blue eyes. He didn’t seem to notice them as they scurried away.

“The BSAA are hunting us?!” Raiden breathed cautiously.

Calder bit his upper lip. “No, not you. They want me dead” Raiden looked at him somely, melancholy. He looked at the darking sky. “You shouldn’t come with me. The risk is now to high” Dred crept into his voice and he despised it.

The other man only shook his head. “No. I will go with you. Whatever you say I will still go” Raiden puffed up his chest, trying to be more menacing. Calder let a small smile show at that though in the inside he didn’t know what he was feeling.

“Certainly” His hands itches and he took out the grayish tube of liquid. Opening the lid he took a swallow. Inhaling the fresh air he noticed Raiden was looking at him weirdly.

“It was nothing” Shaking his hand down, he dismissed the facial expression as he now got to business once again.

“On the outskirts of Moskau is a little house Zven owns. He has let me use it before. We can take cover there”

“Are you sure it’s safe”

“Absolutely”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Raiden & Calder are now wanted criminals, stated by the BSAA

* * *

 

_Strange To Lose The Show_

_Take It Fast Then Slow_

_Captive To Myself_

_I Can See_

* * *

 

 

**August 26th, 2009, Dresden & Russia **

 

Raiden awoke to a loud obnoxious shouting. Grumbling Raiden reluctantly opened his eyes. The room was particularly dark and grey besides a streak of morning sun filtering through the blinds.

Sitting up and swinging his legs off of the shitty hotel bed he rubbed groggily at his eyes. Blinking away the sleepiness. His back nonetheless aching. By now the shouting had receded from the halls and thankfully altogether stopped.

The hotel room was quiet small and Calder had insisted to get one on the back streets of Dresden just in case. He had also stated that they should get up early to leave which was around five. He was correct as he looked at a little digital clock, the time was five: forty eight am told Raiden. 

Calder had also told Raiden to ditch his phone since they were targets of the BSAA now. Soon he told himself,he had one more thing to do with his phone then he would demolish it. Calder was right of course and Raiden finally turned to look at the tall German born man.

He assumed the man was German since the accent. Sometimes it was difficult to understand Calder when he talked fast, but within the past few months he was beginning to understand. But he craved his homeland, the US. He was a New Engländer and he missed the beauty of it. Even the dreaded hot summers and freezing winters.

Inside he felt deeply afraid of what was to come. He had no idea and Raiden clearly knew that Calder was surely healed. But the thought of leaving his side was to much, he had, yes a debt to pay. Maybe it was already payed up, he did not know and did not care. Calder hadent yet threatened him or left him for the dead, so he went with it. Plus the excitement of what was happening in his life was much more worth it. Then again the dangerous always came with it. Deep in his gut he knew that Calder or even himself was going to be killed one way or another and it wasen’t going to be pretty.

Sliding his hands through his brown hair, he pushed it to the side and stood. Walking quietly to the minuscule kitchen in search of food. His stomach slightly rumbling for attention. His foot caught the underside of the chair and he hissed. His head also knocking into a cupboard. Damn the darkness.

He looked up over the counters to see Calder who was still asleep on the couch. Both of them had instantly passed out first thing when they laid down in the room.

His attempt at searching for food came to an end. Opening cabinets and the fridge showed nothing. No food was found and he huffed a curse.

“Vat you’d expect to find in a hotel like this?” Came a voice behind him. Raiden jumped at the sound.

“Damn. Don’t sneak up on me like that!” He spat momentarily at Calder. Regretting it a second later. “Uh, s..sorry for that” He partly stuttered.

“It’s fine. I won’t do that next time” Replied the ebony man. Calder was combing back his hair with his fingers, the dark locks lying softly on the top of his head. His undercut needed a little buzz Raiden decided.

“We going now?” He asked, picking up his light leather jacket and the Beretta the other man had given him.

“Ja, but first we should check tha news” Raiden nodded as he watched Calder turn on the tv. Instantly the screen exploded with videos, a news reported and what he assumed warnings. The language that was being broadcast he couldn’t understand but certainly the concept he could. 

Calder watched with a stained face, listening while watching the devastating videos of Berlin where they had been not so long ago. Then the tv flickered off and the ebony man inclined his head to the side, annoyed.

“Let’s go. We’ll be taking a plane directly to Moscow. There we'll figure things out” His voice rasped as he gathered his belongings.

Opening the door Raiden followed closing it behind him. Jogging to catch up with Calder he considered a few things before asking, he did so. “What about, Y’know” he waved his hand around their weapons, indicating what he thought.

“Don’t fret, we'll get through. Besides, the virus is to far from here unless someone had tracked them that far already with the virus in them. The planes are intact and Berlin is grid locked. There is still time before they close everything” Calder spoke as they finally made their way outside.

“And do you even have enough money?” Raiden asked now panicky.

“Of course, I have enough to buy two more Lamborghinis again if I wanted to” He smirked at Raiden and the younger man felt terrible. Shaking off the memory he squinted at the rising sun. Illuminating everything, the color like fall, the soft orange crescent light that relaxes everything. Soft perhaps.

“Car?” He suggested.

“No, we will walk” Replied Calder. Raiden didn’t argue. Either way he didn’t know how far it was or if taking a car at this time was a good idea. He consulted against it.

Apparently when they walked, the few people that were out at this time of day, more appearing as they walked. Those barely paid any attention to them,more keen on something else. The sword that was laced to Calder’s back went unnoticed.

It had to do with the virus in Berlin. People were to desperate to be vigilante to them and Raiden felt intense solace in that.

The world had descended into chaos once again and so much of it, which he had heard came from a city in the United States called Raccoon City. It tinged a vague memory of his, one long long ago where once he had driven through that city. He couldn’t remember anything from it.

They walked for several miles. At least seven Raiden assumed. The sun had been rising as they walked and more people began scurrying around. It was hot, deathly so and sweat trickled down his back. He looked at Calder and frowned. The man showed no emotion. Steadily walking on with a set jaw and eyes trained forward. Raiden watched as a bead of sweat tricked down his face and landed in his eye. He only blinked it away.

What was this world coming to? Raiden didn’t have a answer, all he wished was for the old days. Days of peace and solace and not zombies and weird bio terrorist. Bio Terrorist, he was sure he was following one right now and that didn’t disturb him? It should! A man that worked for a deadly organization called Tricell led by the infamous Wesker. What had he even got himself into?

Of course, Raiden had enough knowledge of what was happening. And on the bio organizations. But not particularly a lot, just enough to get through. So why again was he following a person that worked for Wesker? He shook the thought and let his mind wander on the days of smuggling supplies with his rugged friends to different countries and organizations.

“Oof” His body collided with that of Calder’s and the man looked back at him. Sweat beaded his face now and Raiden backed up. His daydreaming now lost as he looked up. They had arrived a few hundred feet from the airport entrance.

Movement flickered from Calder and Raiden turned curiously. The raven haired man was fishing around for something in one of his pockets. Withdrawing he held a pair of keys.

Raiden’s jaw dropped, he hoped those keys weren’t what he was thinking they were for. He didn’t like flying in little planes at all,even the Boeing.

Calder looked back at him, reached once again into his pocket and brought out a iPhone. He held out his hand answering motioned with his fingers. Reluctantly Raiden handed his over and Calder took it. 

Then Calder turned and began heading towards the back, to the hangers. Raiden closed his mouth and gulped. Catching up to Calder he stepped in front of him, blocking the way.

“We aren’t, no way! Do you even know how to fly!” His voice cracked as he said this, looking directly into Calder’s cold seeming eyes.

The man gave him a look of little annoyance. “In fact, yes ve are. I suggest you move and get a grip or your stuck here with no money, with a country thats getting infected by a virus all the vile being a target by the BSAA. So?” He inclined his head to the side, staring at Raiden. The chocolate haired didn’t move as Calder passed him after that. His shoulder roughly catching the older man’s shoulder.

Raiden stood there for a few seconds, frozen. He looked back at Calder, decided. What the fuck was he going to do anyway? Fuck it, he was going. Turning he ran to catch up with the colonel. As he took stride with him they had arrived at the hangers. No personnel was around nor were planes being launched.

Raiden following Calder’s lead, quickly making it inside one of the hangers. He paid little attention to the airport, aviation was something he never took interest in. Almost everything to him in this places was alien to him even outside of the hanger.

It was dark in some parts of the building and natural sunlight filtered through the windows of the garage like door. Calder had stopped by a airplane that was bathed in white with various black writing etched along a line. Stating it was a Cirrus SR20, whatever that meant to Raiden.Two wings jutted from its sides, a propeller in the front and a wing in the back. With the unique keys, he unlocked the door.

“Hop in” He flicked his head to the side and handed Raiden his sword as he passed. “Put it in that back” Raiden blinked in response, opening the door to the side that was presumably the passengers seat. Swinging himself he sat onto the leather seat, taking in everything. Two seats in the font, a lot buttons and two yoke sticks.Two seats lined the back and he placed the sword there. Turning he looked at the belt buckle, annoyance immediately Damen to him at how complicated it looked and promptly shut the door.

As he slid into the safety harness and fiddled with it, he watched as Calder worked back. The hanger door was wide open, sunlight now fully filtering through. Calder stopped at the front of the plane, inspecting the blades. Giving it a good spin he nodded to himself as he opened the opposite door to Raiden.

Sliding graciously in like a cat he retrieved a headset and put it on. The keys were thrown in Raiden’s lap as he shut the door and repeated what Raiden had done. Finally in the safety harness he began calmly but furiously flicking switches.

The engine began rumbling a low hum, the plane vibrating and Raiden once again gulped. First instinct he grabbed onto the seat in a white knuckled grip.

Calder looked over at him with a amused glance and Raiden glared. “Relax“ But Calder’s little claim had not helped him at all as he looked dead on straight. The plane began moving and the younger man so wanted to close his eyes. The feeling of a little plane was so alien, it was actually frightening him.

The words Calder began speaking into the headset went unnoticed and soon the plane was speeding down the runway.

Raiden squashed his eyes shut, not caring anymore. If it would of been possible to staple them shut that would be what was happening right now. If he opened his eyes Raiden new he would faint. It wasn’t the fact of height that got him to this point. It was the fact that they were in a frickin plane, flying and they could die any second! 

Then a hand was shaking his shoulder and his eyes whipped open. He regretted it instantly as what he saw, was what his worse nightmare was. Nauseous filled his stomach and dizziness evaded his head. Without realizing it he grabbed Calder’s wrist in a death grip and promptly passed out. The blackness welcoming him.

 

* * *

 

When he awoke he realized he was deathly cold. Something was being tugged from around his body as he tried to blink his vision and memories back into the world.

As his vision cleared his memories slammed back into his head and the real sickness bolted into his mind and took ahold. Calder was standing to his left unbuckling the belt that framed himself. Instead of thinking to do it himself he began looking around. Where the plane had landed, was a good amount of snow and short grass. The sky was a grey blue and slight snow was falling peacefully.

As the last buckle gave way Raiden bolted pass Calder. Not realizing there was a drop off from the airplane to the ground. He ended up falling into the snow and dirt. Bruising his knees as he did so, he began to hurl. Desperalty trying to breath through the yuck, his stomach unpleasantly wrenching. After his stomach was considered done he sat back on his haunches and breathed. Placing his hand in his chest he tried to catch his breath. Finally earning it as he licked his chapped lips.

His mouth tasted horrible and he felt disgusting. He would NEVER again would go on a plane ever. Raiden stumbled to his feet then and looked around once more. Trees, many trees lined the little area opening we’re they were in. Raiden decided he didn’t want to know the details on how they were able to land here.

Calder stepped besides him. His raven black hair tasseled. The man took off his jacket and handed it to, and Raiden began walking off into a cluster of trees. Raiden caught the jacket. He didn’t want to get his insides on it but he was very cold by now. Calder didn’t seem like he needed it anyway. 

With that he shrugged the jacket on and walked the path Calder was taking. He looked back at the little plane. They were abandoning it? A pricey thing to steal. Huh.

Raiden was tagging along a couple of feet behind Calder as he rounded a corner. Disappearing from his sight and Raiden’s anxiety jumped. Quicking his pace he rounded the same corner. Many pine trees blocking his sight as the dirt road ahead of him appeared and a car.

GunHild was standing on the left side. Apparently waiting for him to catch up. The car was an old one, black too. An 80’s corvette, very sleek indeed.

Hopefully it’s heater still worked, even the jacket wasn’t enough to get the cold chill out of his bones. Jogging over he opened the passengers door and slid in. The other man doing the same.

Starting the car took a couple of tries. That was to be expected. A car at least thirty years old in a cold forest with a zombie apocalypse raging around. Who would think it would start correctly. But it did besides the few stalls it had.

Raiden sighed at that fact. But didn’t dwell on the fact that the gas tank was low or if it needed oil. Calder slammed on the gas pedal and they took off at a fast speed. It resulted into Raiden grinding his teeth and holding onto the seat. Making it very difficult to press the buttons near the dash. Switching on the heat he sat back as Calder turned the steering wheel this way and that.

Expertly driving the car around bends and trees for a good amount of minutes. They were at least going sixty five mph. As Calder skidded another corner, driving hard on the wheel the front slammed into a body. The car halted to a stop as the body flew backwards. Raiden nearly following it. 

Raiden gulped as Calder instantly took out his Beretta. “Wha.. what the hell was that?!” He pointed at the thing with adrenaline drifting on his eventually horizon.

“Undead” Calder replied simply. The man had a straight face and was driving the car now more slowly with one hand on the steering wheel. Raiden desperately searched his pockets. Dismayed, he didn’t find a weapon. Only bullet magazines.

A Beretta landed in his lap suddenly, he looked up to see Calder without his. Pulling out his sword which now layed on his lap.

Of course, just their luck. The car stuttered and chocked and the engine rumbled till it shut off. The vibrating of the vehicle gone. 

“Shit” Was the only thing Raiden heard before the groans of B.O.W’s began to reach his ears. ‘Oh no’ he breathed.

“Were going to have to ditch car” Calder announced as he began opening the heavy door.

“What!! We can’t! Definitely not when there’s going to be a group of them. There’s no where to go!” Raiden yelled at Calder. Snagging his arm he pulled the man back into the vehicle.

“We’re going to be dead. We’re in the middle of nowhere” He was starting to panic. He never liked situations like this. He didn’t know how he was able to be so calm back in Berlin.

The older man ripped his arm away from Raiden. “Zven’s house is right in those trees over there. Well make it. Or you can run there vile I take care of this group. What you want?!” Calder was being dead serious as he glared back into Raiden’s eyes. He needed to hurry up and decide. 

Raiden’s mind was whirling. Before he could clearly think he blurted out. “I’ll... I’ll fight” it shocked him what he said but there was no going back now.

“Gute” Calder slapped him on the shoulder and left the car. Raiden doing the same. As he stood the mid afternoon sun shone and the group of undead appeared as it neared them. Of course there was a cluster. Forty or so. A couple with wings and ones acid spitting.

Just like the ones in Berlin. How could the virus possibly travel that fast? Raiden didn’t think it possible but he knew they were in for one hell of a problem.

Raiden was the only one with a gun. He wondered what happened to the others. But it wasn’t the time to focus on that. Again he breathed in and out, raised the Beretta, kept it in line and began shooting.

The aftershock that came from shooting stung his wrists but he kept it up as the noise form the Beretta rang in his ears. Calder stood near him, out of his sight. Waiting. He could hear a The ebony man breathing, harsh. 

The group of undead, every second counted as they kept heading towards them. By the end of the first magazine, three had dropped dead and Raiden scrambled to put another one on. The empty magazine falling to his feet. 

In that time the B.O.W.’s with wings began to flap them. The other undead clumsily fell to then ground as their wigs scattered dust and flicked the orhers out of the way.

“RAIDEN! Shoot now!” Calder shouted at him. Raiden looked up at the sky then back down to the group. Scrambling and finally being able to snap the magazine shut into the Beretta he began firing.

“Damn, Damn. They’re flying” He muttered to himself. Both him and Calder began backing up as one dropped from a lucky shot to the head. Three more were on their way.

His hands were now trembling, making it even harder for him to concentrate. He shot once again and the third fell from the sky. The two others were gaining on them and he shot three more times. Now jogging sideways with the gun in one hand pointed out. The second feel screeching. The magazine had one bullet left before reload. Raiden knew he better get a lucky shot or they were likely to be dead.

“C'mon Raiden, focus!” Calder encourages besides him. How could he focus?! A zombie was trying to kill him, and it was fucking flying!!!

Abruptly his heel caught and his leg was stuck. He yelped as gravity pushed him back and he hit the ground. Grunting as he took Calder with him. The sword clattered a few feet away from them. 

Shit shot. His eyes widening as the monster was five feet away now. He could hear it, it’s growling and wings flapping dust into his eyes. Trying to cover his eyes wasn't helping as Calder was screaming something at him. It didn’t register as Raiden breathed.

Exhaling out, Raiden raised the Beretta. Squinting his eyes he pointed it at the head of the B.O.W. and fired. They way they’d as it’s head exploded into pieces. Rotten meat flew everywhere as it wings stuttered and it feel form the sky. Right in front of them

They both scrambled back away from the creature. But the fight wasn’t yet resolved as Calder took to his feet and retrieved his sword. Raiden immediately getting rid of the now old magazine and reloading his second to last. 

Standing once again on the hard dirt he began firing. The group was automatically down in numbers and they were dropping one by one as they came closer and closer. Another magazine done Raiden reloaded his last. 

Once again he breathed in and out. Steadied and began shooting. Raiden really did hoped he got each B.O.W. dead on with each shot. He watched as one of the abnormal anomalies dropped dead and again he was left with the last bullet he had. Yet there was only six left and he shot. The bullet hit right through the undead’s head. Killing it instantly.

Now he has no use for the Beretta. He kept it in his hand nonetheless. Looking over at Calder he looked back at the group wich was now so close to them.

This definitely was a bad situation. Then Calder stepped foward, the sword’s hilt in his hand and pointed outwards. He nodded at Raiden and began pacing towards the group. A grim determination set on his face. He watched as Calder began jogging, then swung with force. In that one swing he was able to decapitate two of the undead. 

 Then to his dismay he heard a groaning to his right. “Oh fuck my life” e muttered as he turned to see the B.O.W. so close to him. Raiden nearly went stone still. His hands scrambling for his only weapon, the Beretta ran out of bullets. All the magazines he carried on him were all used up. He was in deep trouble. There was only five more left. His interest in what Calder was doing had left his mind and he really wondered where the man was. He needed help.

“Fuck” The B.O.W. was coming closer and Raiden had nothing else around to use as a weapon. Instead he slid the Beretta’s top back as the underside stuck out. A point, the only thing he had as weapon in the moment.

Throwing a look over his shoulder he could see their destination a few yards away. It was a big house, dark and border lining on a mansion. But he didn’t have time to dwell on that as he swept his hair out of his face and looked back at the moaning zombie.

Apocalyptic, yeah totally. Surging forward he snapped the point of the gun into the B.O.W.’s temple. It’s mouth was leaking acid venom. It shuttered as he released the Beretta. A terrible sound erupted from it as he began backing off. Thinking it was finally done.

He was wrong as the zombie. Surged forward in last time as he was withdrawing his finger and bit it. Raiden yelled. A terrifying screech emitted from his mouth as he stumbled back and fell. The undead acid thing falling at the same time.Dead it was. Fucking finally Raiden thought partially.

“Oh Shit! What the fuck! Motherfucker! Fuck! FUCK!” Raiden stared at his index finger of his left hand. His dominate hand. The finger was raggedly cut off and was pouring out crimson blood like a river. Shock was beginning to set in and with his hands now shaking he yelled.

“Calder! CALDER!” Raiden began screaming out in a desperate attempt to get the attention of the raven haired man before something worse could happen. 

His eyes went crossed eyed and he could barely register a shout from his left and the low moan as a undead to his right. Then he blacked out.

Without him knowing, a hand grabbed his bloodied hand, set it down evenly then a sword came down with strength into his skin.

 

* * *

 

_The next day as Leon was deep into fixing and cleaning his motorcycle's parts. Expertly repairing what needed to be repaired, his phone began vibrating from his pocket._

_Wiping his hands on a oil dirtied cloth he snatched it from his ripped jeans he only used for the occasional, bike repair. Opening the screen revealed the phone call was from, Ada. Surprising and unsurprising at the same time he answered it anyhow. Always excited and on guard when it came to Ada._

_“It’s Leon” was all he had said before Ada launched into a series of sentences. Leon sat back on the grass a few feet from his motorcycle, listening intently._

_“You’ve heard what had happened in Berlin?” Ada asked._

_“Yeah, the footage was intense”_

_“The BSAA is now targeting two people that have information on what has happened. I had the time to talked to them personally yesterday. Two people named Colonel Calder GunHild and Raiden Montgomery. The one, GunHild was dressed in military gear with a sword and Berettas. His friend was carrying the magazines. I know for sure he’s a smuggler. Smuggling goods form the US as into the USA.”_

_“From the looks of it. The city is outbreak is probably linked towards GunHild. I looked into his record since yesterday. He had worked with Delay Force and Tricell very recently. He seemed to abanded them after a serious car crash.”_

_“The two of them say it wasn't them, of course. They did say a man had attacked them and tired to harm them, possible homicide. GunHild also says the man dropped a airborne virus which started what happen in the city.” After Ada finished, silence was heard in both ends. Leon was thinking furiously.”  
_

_“Really? Is that all they told you? You talked to them? What about the BSAA, do they have that formation on this yet?”  Leon sought after answers. This was a bad situation, one that could become very complicated.”_

_“No, they do not. The two men, that’s all they told me. All the information they had to give. It was for a trade. I had to help them out of the city for that information. I don’t know where there exactly headed anyway.”_

_”Once the BSAA gets a hold of this information one way or another, they will be dead set on tracking down GunHild. Always so desperate to get a hold and eliminate Tricell agents. It will take longer for the BSAA to realize there’s another man involved. The one GunHild and Montgomery were talking about.“ She stated finally.  
_

_The word Tricell swirled around in his head Leon narrowed his eyes.  He wanted to believe what Ada had just told him. It would definitely need more thought process. He sighed, everything that has to do with Ada was complicated. Besides that he asked her differently._

_“How did they talk to you Ada? Did they threaten you?” He asked with a slight concern._

_“The GunHild did but only so he and his friend could get out of the city. Lucky for me I was right in their path and traded the Jeep got information. You saw me with them yesterday for information. It worked out well enough”_

_“Yeah, okay...” Leon thought for a few seconds, coming to a realization. “Those people who were standing by the Jeep when I met you yesterday. Was that them?”_

_“Yes” Ada replied. Leon could practically hear her eye roll._

_“Who was the guy that supposedly started the virus?” He inquired._

_“The man’s name is Glenn Arias. A black market dealer. That’s all I could pull from their mouths Leon. Now I have to go. This Arias is much more danger for them and us. I suggest you try to track him down than GunHild and Montgomery. See you around”_

_Leon nodded mostly to himself and bid sent a farewell into the phone. Ada hanged up as he set the phone down. Breathing in as much as he could. He looked up at the motorcycle with soulful eyes. Sitting silently, pleading for the repair to be down so it would once again purr alongest the road.  His favorite. _

_Leon debated the options in his mind. How could Ada know for certain that the Glenn Arias had released the virus if she had never once seen him or had video footage? There was no evidence of that man but on the other hand. Leon tired to remember yesterday, two men that were walking away from the Jeep when he met Ada._

_He hadn’t had a good look but one man, the tall ebony guy was certainly European. Seemingly to have a unique tattoo on both sides of his face, alongside that he had two black earring loops and a undercut. Multiple weapons and magazines were attached to his belt and a striking sword. The guy next to him, nearly a head shorter walked slightly behind him. Looking around constantly while his friend looked on ahead with no fear. There was only a single gun on his person. His hair was a brown with what Leon thought was a stripe of sliver and red. He had looked frightened and deathly pasty._

_They had walked away quickly not once looking back and Leon thought that highly concerning. It didn’t sit right with him._

_Leon decided, for a time ignoring what Ada was telling him. He would help hunt down Calder GunHild and Raiden Montgomery if the BSAA needed him._

_Standing up, Leon picked up his wrench and knelt before his motorcycle once again. Getting back to work for the time being._

_Some enough later, he would be getting a call from the BSAA._

 

* * *

 


	6. Chapter 6

 

* * *

 

_I do_

_I can see the resolution_

 

* * *

 

**September , 2009, Russia**

 

Exhaustion was borderlining his senses as he sheathed his sword. Kneeling down in the snow he lifted Raiden with partial trouble, nearly falling in the process.

Bodies littered the ground, rotting in decay and poison that was spewed beneath the multiple cadavers. Turning his head away from the castrophy of dead bodies and the erie whistling of wind, Calder stumbled towards the mansion.

Settled nearly in a patch of trees within glisting snow.Calder’s feet dragged unpleasantly through the snow as he huffed from the effort. Thankfully he was not hurt, but exhaustion settled in every nerve of his body.

Raiden’s finger was bleeding hastily. The finger should be cleaned and bandaged as soon as possible. Calder couldn’t remember if leaving a chopped off finger to bleed could damaged Raiden’s arm or possibly body even. 

Calder drove forwards, his legs and arms hurting like fire was scorching his bones. The weight of Raiden was to much and with sudden realization Calder noticed he was, indeed sick. Sick of a disease which had no cure. For the moment his mind vehemently stopped and his knees nearly buckled with the information. Before he began falling he regained his legs and stumbled forward with Raiden groaning in his arms from pain to the doorway of the mansion. The new information of him dying from that, that drink he led so dearly. Sacred for his life was pushed back, far back to the corners of darkness in Calder’s mind. He would turn to it later to deal with, now, he had a friend to help.

Letting Raiden down to stand on his legs before the door, Calder made sure his arm was still wrapped supportable on Raiden’s waist. Just In case. The other man mumbled and moaned from pain. His body leaning against the stone wall.

Keys were snagged from a assortment of pockets and with a great deal of unwanted strength the great door opened to reveal a melancholy, ominous room. A room that’s size was great with rich and grand architect. Helping Raiden once again, and nearing falling once again, Calder picked up Raiden and entered the mansion.

The door behind him closed with a bang and a shadow moved from the opposite wall. Torches of fire lined the walls with velvet carpet rolling in waves along-st the ground without hast. A grand chandelier cascades down from the middle of the room. It was promptly a dream of reality to have a gala here. It was possible.

The shadow that had since moved now molded to a shape and stepped out into the light. Calder jumped at seeing the figure appearing so suddenly, not expecting anyone to be here. As he slightly jumped his arm released Raiden’s legs and the man nearly went tumbling to the ground, closely bringing GunHild with him.

Instead Calder caught himself before any of that could happen and only ended with his knees bent and Raiden’s feet unsteadily placed on the titled floor. The figure moved closed to them and bowed.

“Mrs. Stalanski, the maiden of this house. I presume you are aquantied with Sir Wolffenstein?” The lady maiden asked politely. Her dark hair was tide back into a bun with a silky blue dress and black high heels. Her eyebrows raised accordingly.

Calder swallowed ungratefully and nodded.

“Yes, I know him. We are great friends! But now isn’t the time, my friend here is in deep pain. Could you point me to the nearest bathroom and I will be shortly with you to discuss more?” He inquired.

“Yes, Of course. Mr.?”

“GunHild, And my freund here, Raiden Montgomery”

“Yes, well Mr. GunHild follow me. If you need any help just shout, I’ll be happy to help. Sir Wolffenstein rarely ever comes around and it’s a surprise to get anybody acquainted to him”. The middle aged lady talked on, some lines crossed here and there giving way to grey hinged on her hair. Showings of stressful days of late.

They began climbing a flight of stairs and once again, with great pain. Calder dead lifted his friend up the stairs. Blood was dipping onto the expensive carpet as well as his own clothes. Raiden’s blood was already smeared on his face and somehow, his hair. He could smell the metallic taste.

The corridor they had turned towards was dark, menacing, haunting. It’s self alone spoke of faint dark days. GunHild shook off the feeling as the maiden led them to a room. She pointed towards it.

“There thou are, if your staying the two doors down on the right side both of thou can stay in. Stay here as long as needed. I expect both of thou are hungry. Dinner will be served in three hours. If Mr. Montgomery can’t make it, thou can certainly bring it to him.” She bowed once again and began walking off back down the corridors which then came. Then she turned and with a smile said. “Thank you for what you did out there. It’s a tough job doing that” With that she disappeared and Calder was left alone again with Raiden.

His arms felt like jello as he roughly dragged Raiden into a ornate bathroom. Filled with grey and white shining tile and many tolietries. Setting Raiden against the tub Calder began looking through the various cabinets in the room. He was successful when he pulled out a medical kit in the bottom most of the cabinets.

Fumbling with the latch, Calder opened it and looked through the contents. Sorting through them he pulled out the necessary requirements. Gauze, dressings, Hydrogen Peroxide, tape and band aids and collecting some face towels from another cabinets he set them down next to Raiden. Kneeling in front of the unconscious man he took his arm gently.

Better he best be sleeping through this but the risk of him waking up through this was high. Taking the man’s battered hand in his hand, Calder carefully inspected the wound. Pushing up the sleeve to reveal there was no black veins poking through, no rotting flesh.

Calder sighed in relief and looked firmly at the chopped off finger. He had saved Raiden just in time, the finger was cut down to the knuckle and nothing amiss except leaking blood. Thick, warm and oozing with hot defiance into the floor and Calder’s skin.

This was not going to be an easy job. Picking up the towel and hydrogen peroxide, Calder uncapped the latter and poured it into the white pristine towel. Pressing it to the blunt end where disgustingly the bone was showing, whipping away the blood and around the wound. Then picking up the bottle of hydrogen peroxide, Calder poured it without any concern over the towel and knuckle. His index finger was a clean cut from Calder’s sword. Enough that Calder concluded it would heal nicely if he could tend to it correctly.

Sure he had minor medical training in the military, but that was a long, long time ago. To long ago to remember. All the alcohol he had drank through his life had wiped that part of his memory away.

Getting the gauze, he swiped at it onto the other end of the towel and began mashing it all over the dressing and wound. With efficient fingers, Calder quickly obtained the dressing and began wrapping it around the knuckles, underneath and over, around the wrist, over the palm. With determination, he put down the towel and snatched the tape. Taping the end of the dressing secularly and falling back into his haunches. The gauze and hydrogen peroxide was spilled onto the floor and himself. The dressing remained tattered and wild over onto the tile and the remaining blood had spread over the floor and onto Calder. He could feel it ozzing down his arms and clothing. He would wash it away later.

Now Raiden was regaining consciousness. The younger man’s eyelids began fluttering, he frowned as he tried to move his body but before he could rise Calder put his hands on his shoulders.

“Easy, sit down, you need to remember what happened”. Calder softly spoke, trying to get Raiden to stay put. The younger man’s eyes were beginning to clear and he hissed.

“Shit! What the fuck happened? My fucking finger! Fuck!!”. Raiden breathed as he looked at his finger and began to try to stand up but Calder again forced him to sit back down.

“Quiet, you are alright. I had to cut off your finger or you’ll be infected or bled to death”, Calder stated. Raiden stared at him and looked back down at his finger.

“Well, it fucking hurts you know. Now where the fuck am I!?” Raiden grinded out.

“We’re in the mansion that we were aiming for. Second floor. All the undead are dead.We can stay here for a time. Your finger needs to heal. Besides, staying in the mansion will do us good. No disease can get us right now. So are you good otherwise?” Calder went on.

“Yes, Yes. I am alright besides this”. He waved his damaged hand around and growled. “You don’t think they’ll find us here as long as we stay?” Raiden inquired about the BSAA.

“Them?! They aren’t a problem right now. We can deal with that later. First I need to shower and make sure your alright. I do not know about you. There’s a maiden in this house, tending to it. She has told me that dinner will be served in a couple of hours.”, Calder stood and held out his hand.

“You good?”

“Yeah I am” Raiden picked himself off the ground, not glancing at Calder’s hand as he wavered for a second and then began wandering into the hallway. Turning he raised a eyebrow at Calder.

Calder followed him out and pointed to two doors at the back of the hallway. “Those two doors are our temporary rooms for now” He stated.

“Sure. I’ll take the one on the right”

“Okay, You sure your alright?” Calder asked softly, moving slightly forward.

“Yes. Good all good” Raiden seemed to deadpan. As the other man quickly turned his head the other way.

Calder blinked at him and watched the other man disappear around the doorway. Raiden holding his damaged hand to his body.

Calder turned around and knelt. Beging to clean up the bloody mess on the tiled floor.

After Calder ignored the question on the BSAA, he had noticed Raiden giving him this weird look. Rightfully so, Calder knew that were ever they went the BSAA was tracking them. It was only a matter of time and he was tired. So very tired, mentally and physically. His bones ached from age, his mind tired of thinking through difficult times. The world had gone to shit and he pretty surely knew it wasn’t going to get any better.

As he cleared all the remaining stuff,he threw away the junk into the trash. The raven haired man trudged toward the door at the end of the hallway. A dead end where he was going.

Opening the door and closing it he flicked a light revealing a tiny hallway. Lined with redwood flooring and three doors. The first room on the right led to a mini living room. The next room was the bedroom and the last a bathroom.

Upon entering the bathroom he switched on the light and blinked to become accustomed to the florescent light. The bathroom was a replica of the other, clean, pristine, lined with tile that was white and grey.Closing the door and turning to the shower he turned on the water and began stripping.

 

* * *

 

 

A hour and half later Calder was sitting at a majestic dinning table, great in size with polished wood. A white table cloth thrown over it. His dark hair was still damp, clinging to one side of his face as he stared into the wall blankly.

The maiden had found him wandering downstairs as he explored the mansion. She beckoned him to follow as he did so and soon did that they entered a dining room. The dinner she had prepared was nearly ready, though she promptly spoke that she would eat later.

Clothes were provided in the bedroom next to the bathroom which Calder had found. He had laid his sword onto the bed as well as his neck less. His other clothes were left near the front door were a little note for anyone to occupy the room would get. The clothes would be cleaned shortly.

The clothes he had picked were new but an oldish style. Mostly to do with the mansion. The mansion did have an old architect style. Later he would ask the maiden when it was built.

He kept his black boots but dawned sleek black slacks, a white button up shirt and a old top suit, an abnormal pick which was a dull black Victorian tail suit jacket.

All the blood and dirt that had been in his pores were now gone and he felt for once in a time, refreshed. His stomach grumbled as the chandlers and candles lit the room. Casting long shadows. He stared intently at the flickering fire, his chin resting upon his hand.

With a loud click and groan the massive doors at the other side of the room burst open and in cake striding Raiden. Still holding his hand to his chest but ever so clumsy. Nearly falling from tripping on his feet, trying to look frantically around. The instinct was to takeeverything in at once but nearly backfired for true man. He hissed as he banged his finger against the door as he regained his balance.

Then looking at Raiden, who still wore the same clothing but light circles dotted under his eyes Calder thought mildly that he did look like he was here for a date. Ha! A date! But no, it was just the clothes he had picked or maybe it was the candles and the low light? No, his stomach rumbled again and he looked longingly at the place were the maiden disappeared.

Raiden stumbled his way with a blank stare to the seat next to Calder. Pulling it back and plopping down into it, barley noticing the other man. The older person looked inquiringly at the other, he took no heed as the maiden suddenly appeared and served them.

“Danke” Calder smiled gratefully at her as she returned it and once again vanished. Minutes later she came back in with two more plates then vanished once again. The food was various with only having two plates for’er themselves. Two held an easy going salad with roasted chopped chicken in it. Tomatoes, lettuce, parsley, carrots and much more. While the other two plates held steak with A1 sauce, a series of beans and potatoes.

They dug in instantly. Through chewing, Calder unknowing Raiden was fighting. In deciding if he should speak.

Still silently eating, Calder ignored Raiden as the man thoughtfully stared at him. Thinking.

Tugging at his pocket, Calder snagged at the ominous drink which had a awful color to it. No name of the contents,he unscrewed the top and took one large gulp of it. Screwing the top back on he placed it securely in his pocket. He had two more remaining, the two were back in his temporary suite. Next to his sword.

Calder started as Raiden spat at him with an assortment of words.

“That thing, that liquid you have there. Do you even know what it’s doing to you? It’s making you sick. I can see it. Your going to die from it soon. Calder!!” Raiden’s hissed as his face was contorted into slight fury. Whatever is was, Raiden had caught on to whatever signs he had been collecting from Calder. Raiden might of look dumb to the regular eye but he was wicked smart.

Calder places his fork down, finished with his meal.He looked away. Nearly ashamed, he didn’t want to face the truth. Vehemently looking back at Raiden he defended himself.

“How do you know that drink is making me sick? Deadly sick perhaps. It is helping me! It has made me stronger, more resistant to these viruses that are contorting the world for worse” Calder ground out.

“I am making sure that I am protecting myself. That I can live longer.” He huffed. Now getting slightly offended.

The younger man sneered back.

“You think your saving yourself! Your not! Have you forgotten that I worked with drugs, a drug dealer for many years. I know the effects and the symptoms and what happens to that person. They get addicted, thinking it’s helping them. Especially in your case, the world, Yes, is going to shit but that drink isn’t helping you. I can tell it’s old, it’s poisoning you and your getting weaker by the day. You cough at least everyday. I only want you to stop so you can live. I don’t want you to die”

Calder stared. Words stuck in his throat. He knew it was true, he could feel the sickness flowing though his veins! But, he was so so far too deep. The hole was dug and he wasn't coming back.

“I don’t care anymore. If it’s killing me so be it. I know i'm going to be killed soon, by this disease or by the BSAA. Ya know I don’t really have anything to live for. I would like you to live on, this is why we are here. No matter where ever we go, they go” Calder shook his arm around them.

“The world is mostly likely going to get better and I won’t be here but you’ll be and I want you to be there when it happens.”

Calder leaned forward, talking softly. Nearly to a whisper. He always hated these types of talks but they were necessary.

“Why then?! Why don’t you want to live. There is things to live for. Why do you think not?” Raiden asked vehemently.

“My life was a wreak. My mother never cared for me, she ran off never to be seen again. My father was a damn Nazi, who was to cold for his own good and ended up turning onto one of Umbrella’s prototype zombie that tried to kill me! I have no friends except two, who have but died so far. Since the world is dead and people are hunting for us there is nothing to do. I’ve saved your life, you mine. I’ll repay it one more time before I die”

His hands hands shook as he tried to find a cigarette. He found nothing. Calder snarled in response to that. Growing frustrated he stood. The chair screamed behind him on the wood floor. The same for Raiden’s.

Raiden was about to speak again but Calder interrupted.

“I’m to old to do this shit anymore. My bones ache and my legs don’t want to move anymore. I can barely breath from all the cigarettes I’ve smoked. There is nothing to do, so stop trying to do anything to save me. There is nothing you can do” Calder desperately tried wracking the imagine into Raiden’s head. It seemed to work.

He didn’t want to deal with the man anymore right now than the truth that Raiden was pressing onto his shoulders. He was shunning it desperately.

The dark brown haired man looked hastily down. Partial sadness glinting on his face as he turned.

“Fine” He stated and turned.

Calder watched with despair as Raiden walked away.

As Raiden vanished, leaving Calder to idly flitter through his thoughts and memories. He felt bad for Raiden and partly confused as why Raiden had told him off. He knew he was dying, dying of a disease he forced on himself, what was he to expect? The world was rotting away and everybody had no doubtlessly a virus in them, slowly eating away their minds. Besides, the world had been dying since birth. It was natural and the Earth was correcting the wrong.

He wanted to find Raiden and ask him why, why he reacted like that. But Calder was sure he wouldn’t find him at any rate in the mansion. Even so if he wouldn’t let him into his temporary suite. The way Raiden had held that conversation was to close to the younger man’s heart that Calder didn’t want to intrude. Now he didn’t want to find out. Calder thought he knew, knew why the man acted like that. He shook it off.

These thoughts were tainting his mind. He need something to occupy him fast, or he might possibly be subjected to a wicked doubt and depression in his emotions. He didn’t want to risk it.

Instead he made his way to the entrance of the mansion and opened the doors and ended up by the side of the house. A measly pile of wood stood by a tall stone wall of the mansion. A ax placed by. Walking over to it he picked it up, laid it on his shoulder and looked around. Fingers gracing the worn wood he looked at the trees, some small, others bigger.

He could see some widow makers dotting in and out of the forest. The bigger widow makers would be good for fire wood unless the wood was rotten throughout the inside.

This was something to do. The day was already beginning to darken and the wood pile did need to be stocked. He set to the ridge line of the trees. Looking around he stepped up to a rather over sizedwidow maker. It was far enough into the forest that it would not hurt the house so he hefted the ax. Made sure it wouldn’t fall his way and swung.

A resounding crack split the air. Echoing as no birds echoed back, nothing. The forest was silent, a dead forest.

The wood inside the widow maker was not rotten through, telling of good fire wood.

Calder carried on with the ax into the wood, two swings times before it went timber and crashed to the ground with such a large sound it would alert anything in the forest. He heaved the ax onto his shoulder and went looking for another.

 

* * *

 

Paralyzation is what happens to your body when a person sleeps. The body becomes immobile in the first stage of sleep, where the sleeper encounters the dream realm. Their eyes do move, and they do breath showing they are indeed alive. In the dream realm, it differs for many. Some can speak, others not, some can control, others not, some can see their body and limbs while others can not and some are plagued by more dreams than most.

For Calder, his body was in this state, a fitful one of that is considered since the body is paralyzed. Dreams occur all the while throughout sleep, but the sleeper will most likely remember the dream they had if they do so wake up right after that, if they don’t it’s a lost cause. The trigger for dreams are what you remember right before you fall into the blackness. Either nightmarish or heavenly, it doesn’t matter. Your memory gets sucked into this state and the sleeper has no control. This is why people wake up with different moods.

This was the matter for Calder, whose memories weren’t that good. Calder could partially think, remember barely enough hints that this was just a dream. Stuck in a different realm that he would wake up from, that he wasn't in any danger. Nonetheless, the dream was terrifying, dreaming up a nightmare upon nightmare, again and again. A long lost memory.

_It was the mid 70’s, 76 to be precise. he had been born in the second month of the year in 1963 and his parents had moved to Norway. His mother with golden reddish hair that dazzled within the sun, Aslaug was her name, of the beautiful female in the famous Sigurd Saga.While his father, Otto, who he preferred to be a Dinaric ethnically, with dark hair and a tall but stocky build, was not from Norway, his mother was. See, Calder never really loved his parents. His mother was alright but she was always off somewhere, he never understood and still wouldn’t to this day. For his father, he disliked him, his very cold ways and the stoic form. This is why they moved to Norway, on his father’s terms. As Calder grew older he learned of the past and began realizing Norway was a safe heaven, a neutral zone for his father . His father’s crimes were hideous and he peered with a disgusted face at his father. Many times resulted in getting backhanded for this. Yelled and screamed at, but it only made him tougher and more hateful._

_This day had haunted Calder for many years and more to come, making him shudder in fear. He should’ve gone back when he was older, but his father was probably dead by now, and rightfully so. But one thing was for sure, his father was an influence when it came to the military. One, you could go down in history in a very bad way or two, teach you a thing or two and can be regarded as great, a hero._

_It was a hot warm August day as he played outside in the long grass near the open house and the stable. Three horses grazed nearby, two Tersks and one handsome Arabian. Magnificent in kind as they snorted as Calder passed._

_His thirteen year old self still enjoyed climbing in trees and looking at the thin streams that ran along the thin long wavy grass. Their house was far from any civilization and far away from a time which would become devastating, blood ridden with undead that once was considered fantasy._

_He was slightly jogging back as he noticed a Jeep near the beaten dirt path to their house, driving frantically away. He didn’t catch who was in it, or any logo that was written on the side of the door. He hurried back to the house to investigate. Maybe he’ll find something good to find. He was so dreadfully wrong._

_Opening the back screen door and letting it close behind him he hurried to the kitchen. Entering he found his Father sitting at the table, staring into the abyss with sullen eyes. A tube of some contents laid gently in his hand. Marked with big letters that read._

_“HAZARD”_

_He walked up unsure and uneasy. Sanding next to his father, the man seem not to notice him and Calder gulped a tiny bit. Returning his attention to the tube he carefully looked, inspected it till he pricked it up from unresponsive fingers. He quickly looked back at his Father, the didn’t move._

_Looking at the vile that he gripped cautiously but firmly, Calder rolled it around in his hands. Spotting the words, Umbrella, Factory, Labs, Virus, Amerika, Raccoon City imprinted in it. Prototype also followed as the liquid moved back and forth. Little bubbles appearing, captivating Calder’s eye._

_He jumped as the vile was ripped from his hand and a shadow was thrown over him. He looked up to see his father standing, a little taller than him._

_“Don’t dare touch that again, boy! You’ll regret it. It’s military business!” His father spoke in a low tone._

_Calder scrunched his eyes in confusion. “I thought you were done with the military?”_

_“Nein! Never, once your in your never out. No matter what happens, only till your dead.”_

_“Then why did that come from, Amerika? What is it?” Calder inquired. “Who was that driving off in the distance?”_

_“None of your damn business, Calder!” He pushed Calder away. The newly teenager stumbling a bit. “Go find your Mutter und help her.” The older man stormed. He placed the tube up on a cabinet._

_Though the man was occupied with yelling he didn’t notice that the vile was edging towards falling, falling to the ground. Calder could see what was about to happen and surged forwards to try and stop it but it only resulted in getting backhanded by his father._

_His hand went strait to his now stinging face, wincing as he saw the vile fall and split. The weird liquid exploding and landing on his father’s pants, dissolving it and going into his flesh and blood._

_His father yelled many things as Calder’s ears went blank for a couple of seconds, then his Father was pushing him to the door. Forcing him outside and Calder caught the look in the older man’s eyes. Trepidation, crazed, desperate._

_Gott, he had no idea what was going on. His hands shook in tandem with his father’s trepidation. He was paralyzed as his father’s face began paling._

_The man began to retch right there in the middle of the grass. Delusion kicking in for the fear, dragging him deeper into a pit that he would never be able to reach for the surface._

_Nothing resounded, clicked in Calder’s mind as he stared blankly at his father. Then as he was pushed farther back once again, into longer grass was he able to regain his hearing. And the things his father were saying between spitting and hurling. Horrifying things he would not like to think about._

_The dream was to clear, to clear to be a dream, never mind a memory. He knew it was real as he was locked once again in this dreadful landscape._

_“Their are very dangerous people out in the world. Some of the past and the present” His father snarled. “Beware of Amerika, dangerous people reside there, dangerous experiments hidden that will kill us all. Kill us all, I tell you boy! You think what I did was bad! I tell you not, much worse will happen. Beware! Beware, you will create your own gallows with them!”_

_His father screamed as his hands went to his neatly kept hair, ranking through and tugging at the dark locks. Falling to his knees, screams racked his body as his head shook wildly. His head whipped up and to Calder’s trepidation. His father was not what he once was, the old scars on the beaten face were streaming crimson, eyes bloodshot, a different color, and growling._

_Calder ran_.

His eyes flew open as he gulped in fresh air that flowed from the window to the right of him. Pushing his body up with his arms and ignoring the sweat that drowned and flowed on his skin he focused on steadying his heart. Sitting on the edge of the bed.

He knew it was just a dream, a recurring drama from a memory long ago. That it would never happen again and instantly his hand went straight for his necklace. The symbol, Vegisvir, the compass and protection symbol. He was knew he was alright as he rubbed the heirloom and stayed there for a second or two.

His shoulders began shuddering and he tried, oh so tried desperately to resist the sobs. He failed and they began falling. Long, warm streams winding their way down his face. He buried his hands in his face shamefully, he never cried unless this dream appeared.

Damned this dream to the universe, damned his emotions. The memory was to much for him to handle, such a burden. Something that no child should have to deal with.

The minutes ticked pass as he snorted with tears and sobbed as he gulped air in. Not being able to control himself for some time. Soon he let his hands falls to his sides and looked up at the black ceiling. The tears were dwindling as he thought of better things, the little things in his life that were note worthy. His tears began drying up as his breathing became normal.

Rising, he slowly trudged to the window and opened it. The two parts sliding to either side as he rested his arms on the sill and breathed deeply.

Hanging his head down he began running though his thoughts. Unable to calm them from the one thing his father had said that had struck him, cursed him for so long and it might as well come true. It did, so far.

He knew he was slowly going out his mind. The alcohol he had found not so long ago was doing it and he knew he didn’t have a lot of time left. Yet that was the way of life in this unforgiving world. He had wasted his life away and had regretted it deeply. But what are you going to do when the world went to shit?, undead became as real as thing as fantasy was considered false and terrorist were much more dangerous than previous deemed. Bio

The BSAA was on the hunt for them,the days were begining to dwindle. Yet again, the same thought struck him. It walkways occurred to him and it was so true. Everyone began dying the day they were born and that was the truth. Some just didn’t understand how damaged everyone was really are.

He knew, on a certain subconscious level that staying here, their final resolution was their poison, their death sentence. Now,

Calder was already digging his grave. 

he breathed in the crisp fresh air and gazed in wonder at the extraordinary stars. Always to be marveled at.

Within the forest surrounding the mansion, a low, unstable, unmistakable blood lust groan emitted followed by a terrifying screech. Which faded into the cold chilling air.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lyrics at the beginning is from the song 
> 
> Resolution 
> 
> This song also inspired the trope. This could be considered a short story, or a little longer than a short story. In the future a sequel could come out, but that’s is uncertaint. This work could be gold on its own. 
> 
>  
> 
> The credit for the song does not belong to be but to the great Richard Kruspe of Rammstein/Emigrate  
> The song, Resolution is from the band Emigrate and the album Emigrate.
> 
> The credit of the undead and fandom do not belong to me but the creators of Resident Evil. Only the plot and original characters belong to me.
> 
>  
> 
> Resident Evil, will, an always be one of the best ever horror games ever created in the world.
> 
>  
> 
> Yours ,
> 
> HC


End file.
